


The Darkness Fades Away

by heartsdesire456



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Developing Relationship, Firefighter Derek, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Derek, Rape Recovery, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:18:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 44,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsdesire456/pseuds/heartsdesire456
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Derek is the one who saves Stiles from a terrible night gone wrong, they aren't the only ones forced to overcome barriers, break down walls, and try to rebuild their lives one step at a time. </p><p>Though, they are are the only ones doing it together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Darkness Fades Away

**Author's Note:**

> NO NON-CON BETWEEN DEREK AND STILES!
> 
> Also, as usual, I never planned for this to be this long. Hopefully that isn't a problem. Also, apologies to what is probably the SLOWEST OF SLOW BURNS EVER!
> 
> *actually I'm not sorry at all, muahahahaha!*

When Gale had asked Stiles out, he couldn’t believe his luck. He hadn’t thought about much of anything other than ‘sure, I can date a guy, I’ve thought about it in the past’ and ‘HOLY CRAP HE’S A SENIOR, HE’S ON THE FOOTBALL TEAM, HE’S POPULAR, AND HE JUST ASKED ME OUT!’. He tried to call Scott and see what he thought about whether or not Stiles had imagined it all, but Scott was busy spending a long weekend in the woods with the pack doing werewolfy things Stiles didn’t even want to think about (Derek had mentioned wilderness training and yeah, no, not for Stiles). 

He almost thought about calling Allison, but friends or not, the idea of talking to a girl who had been dating his best friend about dating advice was a bad idea all around. As it was, he decided to just not tell anybody until after the first date. He didn’t even tell his dad it was a date when, Saturday night, Gale’s blue Mercedes – the envy of everyone that wasn’t the no-longer-present Jackson Whitmore – pulled up and Stiles was called downstairs by a honk. His dad had raised an eyebrow at the dark blue button up Stiles was wearing with his favorite dark jeans instead of a normal tee shirt, but Stiles just explained he and a friend were going to have dinner at a nicer place while they talked about the upcoming lacrosse season’s strategies. John seemed suspicious but he just nodded and let Stiles go. 

Looking back, Stiles figured that much detail probably showed his lie right off, but in his defense, he didn’t want to have the ‘I may be dating a guy’ talk until he was actually sure it was going to work out. 

From where Stiles was at the moment, staring up into the rain in shock as he heard fighting in the background, he wasn’t sure if it hadn’t worked out at all, or if it had worked out _too_ well.

~

The date had started pretty great. Gale had taken Stiles to a great sushi place in town, had actually seemed interested in Stiles, and didn’t seem to mind that much when Stiles got off track and started talking about random things. Sure, Gale seemed more interested in sliding his foot along Stiles’s leg under the table and making Stiles blush, but Stiles was far from complaining about that.

After dinner they went to get ice cream and Stiles listened to Gale telling a long, convoluted story about why vanilla was secretly the best ice cream, even if most people thought it was boring. Somewhere in there, Stiles was pretty sure Gale was watching him licking his ice cream a little _too_ closely, but Stiles felt like it was pretty much a miracle a guy as hot as Gale, with his broad shoulders, dark hair, intense brown eyes, and winning smile, was even slightly interested in Stiles enough to have dirty thoughts about his tongue. It was still a win in Stiles’s book.

Stiles only felt a little nervous when afterwards, instead of going home or going somewhere else in town, Gale said he ‘knew a place they could be alone’ and proceeded to drive up towards the Preserve. Stiles was nervous enough about the prospect of Gale taking him to one of the popular make out spots, but when he took a road that Stiles only knew from running past it while being chased through the woods a few times, he found his nerves turning to more of a ‘confused’ place than before. “You sure it’s safe out here?” Stiles had asked, but Gale had reassured him that nobody would interrupt them. Stiles was more worried about something in the woods coming after them. Also, the thought of being caught making out with a boy by Argent’s hunters was less than ideal as well.

Gale didn’t bother any slick lines to open the kind of conversation that lead to more, he simply shut off the car then leaned over and kissed Stiles. Stiles had figured it was coming, but he still needed a second to catch up with everything. He knew he wasn’t by any chance the best kisser out there, he had only a little experience to go on, but kissing Gale felt really good so he hoped Gale was okay with what Stiles had to offer.

When Gale had hinted at them getting in the back, Stiles didn’t think anything of it, since that took away the uncomfortable center console issue. Stiles could barely believe, as he floundered as to where to put his hands (he ended up picking Gale’s shoulders) that he was making out with a hot senior. He was a little embarrassed when Gale pulled him into his lap so that Stiles was hunched at an awkward angle from the roof of the car in an attempt to not sit _in_ Gale’s lap. He wanted to avoid the inevitable uncomfortable and embarrassing situation that would arise (ha) from making out while sitting in Gale’s lap. However, Gale seemed to have no issues as he grabbed Stiles by the hips and pulled him flush, smirking as he moved to Stiles’s throat.

Stiles couldn’t help a few soft moans as Gale kissed his neck, but it was a strangled gasp he let out when Gale reached down and squeezed his ass, rolling their hips together. Stiles backed off some because that was a little much. Stiles was no prude, he had no doubts that he would jump at the chance to have sex with Gale, but after all he’d lived for the past year, he wasn’t really sure he was okay with it being _here_ and _now_. He barely knew Gale. He’d never spoken to him until the day before. In the past he wouldn’t have cared very much, but exposure to some scary facts of life – supernatural and frighteningly human – in the recent past had taught him to be wary of going into anything without all of the facts.

However, when Stiles wound up pushing Gale’s hand from under his shirt and away from his jeans five times before Gale so much as pulled back, he was starting to worry if this had all been a good idea. “What the fuck, Stiles?” Gale grunted, shoving Stiles over until he fell onto his back across the backseat. “Be still,” he said, crawling over Stiles to kiss him again.

Stiles huffed indignantly, only to jump when Gale grabbed his crotch a little too aggressively. “Hey, easy,” he complained, reaching down to catch Gale’s hand, only to have Gale shove his hand away and go for his fly. “Hey, Gale, stop,” he complained, pushing at Gale’s hand again, only to be cut off with a startled cry when – out of nowhere – Gale backhanded him so hard Stiles felt like his eye was going to _explode_. “HEY!” Stiles cried, hand flying up to his face. He scrambled to sit up, but Gale grabbed Stiles’s longer-than-usual hair and snatched his head back.

“I said be still,” he said, and Stiles began to really panic.

“Gale, get off of me, man-“

“Oh shut the fuck up,” Gale muttered, yanking Stiles’s shirt open, buttons flying.

“Gale! Seriously, stop- AH!” Stiles cried out as Gale hit him again, this time in the mouth. Stiles was still holding his face when he felt his jeans give and he yanked his hands back, reaching down to stop Gale. “Get your hands off of me!” he cried, shoving at Gale, who just grabbed his wrists. Stiles tried to struggle, but as strong as Stiles had grown since he turned seventeen and started to fill out more, it was nothing when Gale had the upper hand advantage from being on top, and Gale had about forty pounds on him.

Gale shoved his hands together and pinned Stiles’s wrists over his head with one hand. “You really think you can go out with me and then _not_ expect to put out?” Gale gritted out, sliding a hand down Stiles’s bare chest, shirt ruined. “Mmmm lacrosse has done you good, Stilinski,” he said, hands sliding over the lean muscles of Stiles’s abs.

Stiles struggled, trying to get free, but all that got him was another slap across the cheekbone and Gale using the seatbelt to twist around Stiles’s wrists until they were held at an awkward angle over his head. “No, seriously, stop this. Get off of me, you big creep. This is so not okay. Way far away from how I wanted to spend my Saturday,” Stiles babbled, trying to wiggled free, only to gasp out in fear as Gale snatched his jeans down around his thighs. “Seriously! Not fun, Gale. For the record. No means no and all that-“

“Nobody says no to me,” Gale said, raking his nails down Stiles’s back under him, lifting his hips up to try and grab at Stiles’s boxers. 

“GALE! Stop!” he cried, tears filling his eyes when Gale reached into the front of his boxers and touched him. “Get off of me damn it!” He kicked and whimpered when Gale tried to get his boxers off. They were still clinging to his hips as he kicked, but he could tell it wouldn’t take long before Gale found a way to hang onto his legs too. He yanked at the seatbelt, but pulling just made it come out further, it didn’t loosen the bite around his wrists. “SOMEBODY HELP ME!” he screamed, tears falling down his cheeks. “Please! Someone HELP!” he sobbed out. He was going to be raped. He didn’t tell anybody where he was going and he was about to get raped. His first time having someone touching him and it was absolutely _not_ consensual at all. Firmly in the ‘bad touch’ box.

“Nobody can hear you out here, so just shut up!” Gale snapped, knee digging into Stiles’s thigh in a way that made him cry out in pain as much as fear. Stiles flailed as much as he could as Gale slid his hand up his thigh and up the leg of his boxers and Stiles felt dry fingertips touching him somewhere he’d only touched himself a few times.

“Please, Gale, don’t do this, don’t do this!” he sobbed, suddenly wishing more than anything that he’d given in and let Peter bite him. He was about to be raped and he could only think about how, if he was a werewolf, he’d have ripped Gale apart long before that bastard got him pinned in the back seat of his car with his boxers being pulled down his thighs as he fought to no avail. “NO!” he cried, fighting away when Gale grabbed his – thankfully flaccid – dick, just holding it as he slid his other hand up the inside of Stiles’s thigh. “GET OFF OF MEEE!” Stiles screamed out even though it was beginning to hurt to breathe as panic set in fully.

And suddenly Stiles heard a vicious growl and two things happened at once. First, the door above his head was _ripped from the car_ , and second, Gale looked up with a horrified cry, struggling to open the door behind him. Stiles was sure it was something horrible come to rip him to shreds after he’d already faced sexual assault, but as soon as Gale got the door open, whatever was out there snatched him out of the car, having circled the car to his side.

Stiles saw his opportunity and took it. He struggled his way upright and used his teeth to untangle his wrists. He then snatched his boxers and jeans up – the button ripped off of those too – and stumbled out of the car. However, his panic made it so that he barely stumbled twenty yards away before he collapsed, breathe refusing to come. He hadn’t even noticed the rain in the midst of almost being raped, but as he lay on his back, fighting to breathe and unable to stop shaking, he almost hoped he could drown from it.

~

Stiles had almost passed out from the panic attack, but he remembered the fighting sound stopping and warm hands pulling his shirt shut, though it was no use. He remembered struggling slightly until the hands pulled him towards a warm body, lifting him off the ground, and a familiar, soothing scent filled his nose. He tried to look up, but all he could see was trees and falling rain before he drifted off, not able to respond to the soft voice calling his name from somewhere beside him.

~

When Stiles woke up, he knew where he was automatically. He sat up quickly, unsurprised to see Isaac and Derek both jump up from the table when he gasped, looking around frantically. Derek looked more hesitant, but Isaac rushed over, throwing his arms around him. “Stiles! Thank God, I told Derek it wasn’t good for you to not be waking up! I tried to get him to take you to the hospital-“

Even though he knew it was Isaac, when Isaac’s hands slid from his shoulders down his arms towards his wrists, Stiles couldn’t help but shove him off, scrambling back. Isaac looked hurt for about half a second before Derek was at his side immediately, snatching Isaac away from the bed. “I told you not to touch him!” Derek said and Isaac stumbled back. “Get out of here, _now_ ,” Derek ordered and Isaac nodded, slinking out of the makeshift bed/dining/living room to go upstairs. It was the only room in the Hale house that was really rain proof so Stiles felt bad for a second before he remembered exactly what had happened.

“How did you find me?” Stiles asked shakily, looking down at his knees as he hugged them to his chest. 

Derek stayed back and knelt down on the floor beside the mattress he slept on – Isaac slept on the couch when he was over – and looked at Stiles with a more openly enraged expression than Stiles could remember ever seeing. “We were out running this weekend, you know? Wilderness weekend.” Stiles nodded. “We all split up and I went east. When I got near the highway, I heard your voice. I heard you shouting.”

Stiles’s head snapped up. “It- it was you? You s-saved me?” he asked, voice weak.

A pained look broke through the anger and Derek nodded, eyes more afraid and unsure than Stiles could remember seeing them. “Was- I hoped he was just hitting you but-“ Derek’s jaw worked and he glanced at Stiles’s ripped open shirt then looked away, swallowing hard.

Stiles worked up a sad smile. “You got there in time. He-“

Derek nodded. “Who was he?”

Stiles looked up sharply. “Did you kill him?” he asked, looking panicked.

Derek shook his head. “No. Just beat the hell out of him then drove him and his car back to the highway for someone to find,” he grunted in a way that suggests he probably would’ve liked to kill him. “Who was that, Stiles? How did- what happened? You can still tell your Dad, you can say someone came across you and beat him up and took you back to town-“

Stiles startled. “I can’t _tell my Dad_!” he cried in alarm. “You cannot tell my father about this. You can’t- Please, don’t say anything-“

“Why?” Derek demanded. “That little shit was- He was-“

“Trying to rape me,” Stiles whispered, looking up with tears in his eyes. “He- he was going to _rape_ me, Derek! Nobody can hear about that!”

Derek just looked lost. “Why the hell would you not- Stiles, he has to go to jail-“

“It’s not worth the- the way people will look at me,” Stiles argued. “I cannot be the stupid boy who almost got _raped_! I’m already weird enough as it is, no reason to- to suffer more humiliation-“

“You seriously think people will _laugh_?!” Derek asked, looking almost afraid. “Stiles, you’re a seventeen year old boy who got taken into the woods and attacked!”

Stiles shook his head, tears slipping down his cheeks. “No,” he spat through gritted teeth. “I’m the seventeen year old boy who was naïve enough to think an older, hotter boy liked me!” Stiles saw something almost akin to _horror_ flash across Derek’s face so hard Derek actually slid back onto the floor instead of his knees. “And the only reason he tried to rape me is because I didn’t want to have sex with him tonight. Hell, I _did_ want to have sex with him,” he choked out, laughing humorlessly through his tears. “I just- I didn’t want my first time to be with a boy I don’t really know in a place where I didn’t feel comfortable.” He pressed his fists against his eyes. “And damn it why can’t I stop _crying_ ,” he choked out, sounding angry with himself. 

Derek had such a stricken look on his face Stiles was almost concerned for him and he wasn’t the one who had been sexually assaulted that night. “You- your first time?” he asked, and Stiles snorted.

“C’mon, I know you’ve figured out along the lines in the year that I’ve known you that I’m a virgin,” he said, snorted. “Jesus, does it still count as being a virgin if some creep touched you more places than some people would during sex?” he asked in a weak attempt at humor.

Derek just gave him a sympathetic look. “You’ve never- I mean, was that…?”

Stiles nodded, looking down at his kneecaps. “There was a girl last fall. It- I was going to have sex with her and it was out of the blue, like tonight sort of, but I knew her my whole life and I trusted her and we were at her house, so it- I was fine with it being that way but- well it didn’t happen,” he said, shuddering at the memory. “But tonight I- I just didn’t know him or trust him so I didn’t want to and he was going to _make me_.” Stiles let out a broken sob. “Even if I was saved from being raped, the first time anybody has- has touched me I- I didn’t want it and he- he touched me- God _Derek_ ,” he choked out, holding his hand up, and immediately Derek was there, pulled Stiles into a hug. Stiles knew Derek didn’t hug, he didn’t touch anybody, but Stiles needed somebody to cling to and at the moment, Derek’s strong arms made him feel safe and protected.

~

Derek was vacillating between seething anger and an utter loss as to what to do. He felt so upset at what he’d come across. Even if it hadn’t been Stiles, he’d have had serious amounts of mental scarring from coming across an in-progress sexual assault, but because it _was_ Stiles, it was even harder to stay calm. He wouldn’t necessarily say he and Stiles were ‘friends’, but they had a history of mutual life-saving and hanging out with the pack. He’d almost go as far as to say Stiles _was_ pack. 

And right now, Stiles was asleep in the passenger seat of Derek’s car wearing one of Derek’s tee shirts, since his shirt had been ripped up, and some of Isaac’s sweatpants and hoodies since his jeans had been ruined and he was cold from being soaked by the rain. Derek had offered to drive him either to the hospital because of his face and the fact he had passed out, or drive him to his house. He refused to take him anywhere else or let him leave if he wasn’t going to one of those places. Stiles hadn’t been thrilled, he had wanted to go to Scott’s house and sleep there while his mom was at work and Scott was still running with the pack. 

When they got to the Stilinskis’ house, he looked over at Stiles, who was still asleep, and sighed heavily, cringing as he made up his mind. He walked around and opened the door. He scooped Stiles up, lifting him easily. He knew he was going to be asked some questions, but after the night Stiles had, Derek just wanted to get him home where he felt safe. He shifted Stiles so that his head was tucked into Derek’s chest so he wouldn’t hit his head on anything as he reached to ring the doorbell.

When Sheriff Stilinski opened the door, he took one look at Stiles and paled. “Oh God, is he okay?!” he rushed, and Derek shushed him softly, flapping the hand that was under Stiles’s knees.

“He’s just asleep, can I?” he asked, nodding at the stairs.

Sheriff Stilinski looked immediately suspicious but nodded, following Derek as he carried Stiles up the stairs and then to his bedroom. Derek nudged the door open with Stiles’s feet then carried him over to his bed. He laid him down and made sure he was still asleep before turning to walk out of the room. He glanced back and watched as the Sheriff pulled Stiles shoes off for him and pulled the blankets over him, hand lingering on Stiles’s cheek, where his eye was already turning black and his lip was split. When the Sheriff stood up, Derek started to turn and head towards the stairs, but he wasn’t fast enough.

“Hale,” the Sheriff hissed, and Derek cringed, stopping. He watched as the Sheriff pulled Stiles’s door shut, then came at him, face angry. “Downstairs. _Now_ ,” he said, and Derek went down the stairs first. The Sheriff gestured to the couch and Derek awkwardly sat while Sheriff Stilinski paced in front of him. “What happened to my kid,” he demanded.

Derek opened his mouth, and then hesitated. “I’m not… I’m not sure I can say- Stiles might tell you-“

“Did you hit him?” the man demanded, glaring down at Derek. “I swear to God, Hale, you’ve had some run ins with the law before, but if you hit my kid-“

“I wouldn’t hurt Stiles!” Derek cried, defending himself. “I wouldn’t hurt Stiles, and never like that bastard-“ He stopped, standing up. “Sheriff, I know how it looks, but I would never- I couldn’t-“ He groaned. “No. I did not hurt him, Sir.”

The Sheriff sighed, sitting down in the chair across from Derek. “Sit down, Son,” he said, and Derek sat again. “I’m going to ignore how you knew where Stiles’s bedroom was,” he said, and Derek looked away. “If you will, tell me how you even know Stiles and, more importantly, why the hell you’re bringing him home looking like he got beat up again.”

Derek sighed. “We’re… friends,” he said and the sheriff looked suspicious. “No, okay, not ‘friends’ but we- we know each other. Through Scott,” he said, and the man nodded. “Look, Sheriff-“

“John,” he sighed, rubbing at his face. Derek looked confused and he chortled. “I’m being a dad right now, not an officer of the law. Call me John.”

Derek nodded. “Well, Stiles is kind of like a friend. So I didn’t want to take him anywhere but home or the hospital-“

“Hospital?” John asked suddenly. “His face wasn’t that bad.”

Derek cringed. “He sort of… passed out. I worried he had hit his head, but he said he had a panic attack and just fainted, so the hospital wasn’t necessary.” 

John looked up, hands shaking. “Tell me what you’re avoiding telling me. Where did he go? He said he was going out with a friend to talk about the upcoming lacrosse season. I didn’t buy it but I thought it was just- just not wanting to tell me about a party or something.”

Derek looked down at his own hands. “He asked me not to tell you but I-“ He shook his head, resolve hardening. “Screw it,” he said, looking up. “There’s a kid who drives a blue Mercedes. Gale something. I don’t know his last name and I don’t know if he’s still parked beside the road where I left him or if he woke up and went to the hospital, but Stiles was on a date and the bastard tried to- hurt him,” he said, and John froze.

“What do you mean ‘hurt him’?” he demanded coldly.

Derek gave a grim nod. “I was out camping with some friends and I heard someone shouting and went to see what was going on and the guy had Stiles in the back seat. He was trying to get him out of his clothes and I didn’t know it was Stiles but I figured out what was happening and opened the door and dragged the guy out and kicked his ass,” he said honestly. “Stiles stumbled out the other side and when I went to see if he was okay, he was really out of it. He was really hyperventilating so I guess he really did faint.”

John gritted his teeth. “Where did you leave the kid in the car?” he asked, standing up. Derek stood up and followed him as he walked into the kitchen and grabbed a phone from the counter where it was charging. “You said Gale something in a blue Mercedes? That’s specific enough for Beacon Hills,” he said, dialing a number.

Derek nodded. “It was out on route nine. I didn’t think about calling the cops, I got one of my friends to get my car and then we took Stiles back to- to camp and when he woke up, I was going to let him call or take him to the hospital or whatever but he-“ Derek looked away. “He said he didn’t want anybody to know. And I know I should’ve let him tell you but-“ He gritted his teeth. “If he didn’t tell you, nobody would know and I want that bastard in jail,” he said honestly.

John nodded and called up someone. “Hey it’s John. Do me a favor and send a car out to route nine. Look for a blue Mercedes on the side of the road. Also, find me the names for all blue Mercedes registered in Beacon Hills. Thanks.” He hung up and looked at Derek. “Look, I still think you’re suspicious as hell, but thank you. Seriously,” he said with a solemn look. “Stiles just- he lies all the time lately,” he said, looking hurt. “He lies about so much and I don’t know what’s going on with him, but if he wasn’t going to tell me about this, I’m really glad you did.” He shook his head. “Do you know the number of young boys that get attacked and never tell anybody?” Derek tilted his head and John chuckled coldly. “Let’s just say the numbers are way too high.”

Derek nodded weakly. “He said-“ He thought about it, but kept on. “He said he didn’t want people looking at him different because of it and I get that – probably better than he could know – but his dad is the sheriff, he should know better than to just let that bastard get away with that.”

John sighed. “I don’t know why he didn’t just tell me he was going out on a date. He cannot possibly think- I’d never judge him,” he said softly, then looked up, as if realizing who he was talking to. “Why are you even friends with him?” he asked seriously. “Stiles and Scott got you _arrested_ ,” he said pointedly.

Derek shrugged, offering a small smile to try and make himself seem less threatening. “They had their reasons. Even I can admit I’m a suspicious character. I showed up in the middle of the night in a small town and my sister was found dead right after I showed up. I know if I was on the other side of it, I’d probably suspect me too.”

John chuckled weakly. “I guess so.” He sighed. “Derek, whatever you’re doing… whatever you’ve got the boys involved in,” he said and Derek froze. “I don’t know what’s happening but if my kid is lying about it it’s got to be serious. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt because you brought him home and told me what’s happened tonight, but I swear to God, if you end up getting him in trouble or hurt because he and Scott are in on your little ‘group’, you won’t go to prison, you’ll disappear and nobody will ever find the body,” he said matter-of-factly, not even really _warning_ as much as telling him what would happen.

Derek nodded solemnly. “I know,” he said. “For what it’s worth, I don’t ask them to be involved. Especially Stiles. Stiles just gets involved because he can’t stay out of it. I swear, I don’t know what he’s like as a son but I can’t stop him. I try, believe me, John. I don’t want these kids getting hurt because of me, but he’s too smart to trick and too stubborn to back off.”

John nodded. “Yep, that’s Stiles,” he said. “Look, I’ll let you go, but just… whatever you’re mixed up in, maybe I can help you out?” he offered. “If Scott and Stiles are going to keep getting into whatever it is, I obviously have an interest in stopping that. Whatever you’ve got into, whatever you did to get there, I can help, you know?”

Derek smiled tightly. “I wish you could, but just know that, for now, nothing’s going on. If Stiles is lying, he probably just doesn’t want to admit to you that he’s hanging out with me.”

John nodded, walking Derek to the door. “For the sake of my blood pressure, I really hope you’re telling me the truth, Son,” he said, nodding to Derek as he shut the door behind him.

~

When Stiles woke up, he saw his father sitting at his desk, leaned over with his face in his hands and his elbows on his knees. He frowned and sat up some. “Dad?” he asked, voice hoarse with sleep. John jumped slightly, looking up. “Dad? What’s wrong?” he asked, looking at the way his father’s eyes were ringed in red. Stiles sat up all the way and frowned, looking around. “Wait, how-“ He froze, eyes widening as he looked at his dad. “Dad… How did I-“

John sighed and stood up. “Derek Hale,” he said as he stood. He stretched and Stiles winced when he heard his father’s back crack. John walked over and sat on the bed beside Stiles, facing him. “How are you, Kid?” he asked, reaching out to move the sheets away from Stiles’s hand to look at the bruises on his wrists.

Stiles pulled his hands under the covers and looked down, keeping the right side of his face turned away. “I’m fine, Dad, why wouldn’t I be?” he tried, but John’s weary sigh said enough.

And even if it hadn’t, the next words from John’s mouth cemented it. “Gale Andrews,” he said, and Stiles flinched, looking down. “He showed up at the hospital around three this morning after the guy I sent out route nine to see if his car was still there found him severely beaten and still unconscious in the car.”

Stiles looked down. “Whatever you have to say, trust me, I’ve thought-“

“About not telling me?” John asked gently. Stiles looked up, surprised, and John just smiled weakly. “Don’t be mad at Derek. I made him tell me why the hell he brought my kid home bruised up.” He reached out and touched Stiles’s face, turning so he could see his black eye and busted lip. “I’m not angry you didn’t want to talk about it. I can imagine it would feel easier to just not think about it.” He bit his lip, tears in his eyes. “But you know nobody would blame you, right? Nothing that happened last night was your fault, okay?”

Stiles bit his lip, looking down. “I was so stupid-“

“No, don’t you dare,” John said, voice tight. He pulled Stiles into a hug, holding him. “You’re not stupid. Gale Andrews is a bastard, you did nothing wrong.”

Stiles whimpered, squeezing his dad back. “How did I get up here without waking up, though?” he asked. “I don’t remember anything after getting in Derek’s car.”

John chuckled, leaning back. “Derek carried you. Like a princess,” he joked and Stiles made a face, groaning.

“Oh God, I can never look at him again!” he whined.

John smiled. “You’re lucky I’m not asking why he knows where your room is,” he said pointedly and Stiles flushed. “I won’t ask, but I will say… as much as I don’t trust him and I don’t like whatever is going on that you keep lying about,” Stiles looked away pointedly, “I’m grateful for Derek Hale because he told me what happened.” He cringed. “He told me that he heard someone yelling and ran to help them. Even without knowing it was a friend. That does a lot for how I look at Derek Hale.”

Stiles flinched at the memory. “Derek’s like that. He looks out for people.” He sighed. “He won’t get in trouble for beating Gale, right?” he asked, looking up worriedly. “I’d hate for him to get in trouble again and it be my fault… again.”

John snorted. “No way. That little shit is going to jail, not Derek.” He looked at Stiles, then grabbed his hand. “Look, I need you to come give an official statement-“

Stiles shook his head. “Dad, _no_ ,” he whimpered, fear in his eyes.

“Nothing is going to happen to you, I swear-“

“But people will know,” he whispered, tears in his eyes. “Do- do you know what people would _say_?! Oh my God, that’s not even talking about at school and-“

“Stiles,” John interrupted, taking his shoulders gently. “Shhh, it’s okay. Nobody would tease you-“

“The hell they wouldn’t,” he choked out fearfully. “Dad, I just can’t. It’s not that big of a deal, it’s over and- and-“

“And you want him to hurt somebody else?” John asked harshly, making Stiles jerk back. “I’m sorry, but this is serious, Stiles.” He sighed. “Look, if you don’t say anything, he will go back to a normal life and hurt someone else. He might _succeed_ next time,” he said softly.

Stiles whimpered, wiping away the tear that tumbled down his cheek. “But people will _know_.”

John pulled him into a hug again. “Maybe not, okay? You’re still a minor, so they won’t use your name in any reports. The only people who know are you, me, Derek, and the kid who did it.”

Stiles cringed. “Probably Isaac, but I can trust him.”

John rubbed a hand over Stiles’s head, kissing his forehead. “You know Derek and I won’t mention it. Andrews kid might say something, but he might do that anyways, you know?”

Stiles sighed, but nodded. “You’re right.”

John smiled sadly. “Just come in and give a report. Derek has to give a report about beating the hell out of Gale Andrews too.”

Stiles bit his lip. “How bad off was he?” he asked and John made a face.

“Pretty damn bad. Jesus, Derek’s a big guy but _damn_ ,” he said, and Stiles gave a small, bitter chuckle.

“Good.”

~

Stiles went to the station with his dad. When they got there, John had to leave the room since he wasn’t allowed to be part of the case against Gale Andrews. Stiles spoke Deputy Higgs and told her what happened. He knew Lisa Higgs, she was a nice woman in her early thirties, he trusted her from all his time at the station so he wasn’t that worried about any of the deputies gossiping. He explained it all and then wrote it all down when she handed him a pen. When he finished, she took the file and closed it. “So… my dad said nobody’s gonna use my name. Is that true?” he asked worriedly.

She nodded. “He made sure we all know to just redact your name with ‘minor child’ in everything. And since Andrews is eighteen, he’ll be charged as an adult. And his name will be used.” He patted his shoulder. “Only a few of us will ever know it’s you. And since your father is the sheriff, the boy’s lawyer will know better than to try and make you testify in court so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Stiles sighed. “Good.”

After that, he went out and put on a smile, going to hang out at the front desk with Gladys, the aging desk clerk. She was a nice older lady and Stiles regaled her with a tale of how he was camping with friends and fell down a hill to explain his face. He was still sitting on a stool behind the counter with Gladys when he heard Deputy Hartwell and Deputy Stevens both start giggling and rush closer. Stiles raised an eyebrow at Hartwell as she undid the top few buttons of her top and shoved at Stevens, who put on her hat and _pulled out her handcuffs_ as she stood beside Hartwell at the coffee table right beside the front desk, dangling them from one finger. Stiles frowned. “You know, I get my dad is pretty lax around the station since it’s a small force but… uh… are the buttons and all necessary?” he asked Gladys, nodding at them. “What are they even doing?”

Gladys looked up as the bell on the outer door jingled and she snorted. “The Sheriff warned me earlier that our old pal Derek Hale was coming by today – voluntarily for once – and they overheard. I’m guessing they can see the parking lot from their desks, cause here he comes,” she said, and Stiles looked up, biting back a nervousness he wasn’t sure about when the inner door opened and Derek walked in. It was still raining, so Derek slid off his jacket, shaking it before coming to the desk. “Morning, Mr. Hale,” Gladys said in a flat voice, full of suspicion. 

Derek looked up, looking more than a little uncomfortable, almost like a deer waiting to be spooked. “Uh, hi. I’m here to make my statement?” he said, though he phrased it like a question. He noticed Stiles and Stiles saw his eyes go straight to the bruises – which were an ugly purple today – and narrow. “I didn’t expect you to leave your house,” he said in a lower voice and Stiles looked down, then gave him a pointed look.

“Dad wanted me to come in and… explain something to a couple people,” he said and Derek gave him an almost relieved look, nodding.

“That’s good. Great. I’m happy you… did that,” he finished lamely, then cleared his throat. “Um, so… statement?” he asked Gladys, who raised an eyebrow at Stiles, then turned back to the phone.

“Sheriff, our person of interest is here to give his statement.”

Stiles rolled his eyes at her back and gave Derek an apologetic little smile. “Ignore her,” he said softly, leaning across the desk so he was closer and could speak lower. “Don’t worry either, you’re sooo not getting in trouble.”

Derek cringed. “I don’t know, if that kid’s parents press charges-“

“You kicked his ass for a _reason_ and my dad is the sheriff,” he pointed out. “Trust me, you will never be in less trouble with the law than you are right now.”

Derek actually smiled at that. “Your father told me I broke his face, a couple ribs, and both arms,” he said and Stiles couldn’t fight a triumphant little smile.

“Good.”

Derek tilted his head. “You seem way less… out of it today than I was expecting. I was going to come by later to check on you. I didn’t think you’d leave.”

Stiles bit his lip, fighting back a whimper, but he nodded, looking up into Derek’s eyes. “M-my dad reminded me that if nobody said anything, he would just- just go on to hurt somebody else one day. I don’t-“ He took a breath and Derek reached out, catching his hand on the table. Stiles turned his hand over, squeezing Derek’s. “I don’t ever want him to hurt somebody else,” he whispered in a tight voice, tears in his eyes when he looked up at Derek. 

Derek nodded. “Good. I’m glad,” he said awkwardly. “Besides, I’d hate to have to go to jail for actually killing that little bastard.”

Stiles gave a soft smile and squeezed Derek’s hand one more time before letting go. “Thanks for… well, just thanks.”

Derek shrugged, fixing a gruff look on his face once more after his soft display for Stiles’s sake. “You’re pack. Even if you’re an annoying little shit, and even if I didn’t _mean_ to let you in my pack, you’re still ours to protect.”

Stiles just smiled brightly. “Awww,” he said at a normal volume finally. “Derek has a nice side! I knew it! Tin man has a heart!” he proclaimed and Derek just grumbled, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“I really hate you sometimes,” Derek said, only to be interrupted by Gladys putting down the phone.

“The sheriff says he can’t take your statement so go through the door and take a left. You’ll see a woman with red hair waiting by the interrogation room. That’s deputy Higgs. She’ll take you into the interrogation room – I’m sure you remember that room – and she’ll take your statement. Just hurry because she has to go to the hospital to take the Andrews boy’s statement too,” she said, and Stiles shuddered.

Derek glared at her for reminding him of his last incarceration and turned to follow her orders. Stiles watched as he passed the two women at the coffee machine and didn’t even glance at them. Stiles couldn’t fight a laugh when they both stared after him, looking thoroughly put out. “Hehe, good luck,” he muttered.

“And what are you laughing at,” Gladys asked. “Since when do you know Derek Hale? Boy, your daddy would string you up if he knew ya’ll knew each other,” she said warningly.

Stiles just rolled his eyes. “He isn’t a criminal, he’s just misunderstood,” he said, then snickered at his own joke.

“Derek Hale?” Hartwell asked, walking over to lean against the counter. “I told Gladys I didn’t think he had done anything,” she said.

Stevens came over and handed Gladys a file to put in the boxes behind her. “Personally, as long as he was exonerated I don’t care if he did it or not,” she said and Stiles rolled his eyes. “Why are we talking about Derek Hale?” she asked.

Gladys just shook her head. “I was just telling Stiles his daddy would string him up if he saw him talking to Derek Hale.” She shot him a look. “And even if I didn’t hear you two talking, don’t think I didn’t notice the way he _held your hand_.”

Stevens gasped, slapping a hand in front of him. “Shut _up_ ,” she whispered, then groaned. “So that’s why he didn’t even look. Wrong team.” She shook her head solemnly. 

Stiles made a face. “Ew, what? _No_ ,” he said, snorting. “Then my dad really _would_ kill me. And him. I’m underage and he’s like thirty or something!” he said pointedly. He pointed at them. “But seriously, just don’t go there. Derek Hale has the social abilities of a gnat. He’s annoying and hovers and then he’ll just disappear. Doesn’t seem to have progressed past grunting and shoving for his communication skills either.”

Hartwell just hummed. “Is he seeing anybody?” she asked and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think he knows how to see anybody. Those looks are _wasted_ on that man,” he said with a wave of his hand. “If he had any sense, he’d be a stripper. I’ve seen him topless, he’d be rich.”

It only took about fifteen minutes of Stiles trying to get Hartwell and Stevens to leave him and Gladys alone – it was a really slow day, it seemed – before Derek came back out. “Stiles,” he said, ignoring the three women pretty much automatically. “John said if you want, I can take you home.”

Stiles nodded, hopping off his stool. “Sounds good.” He smirked as Derek started out the door, turning to wink at the deputies. “Bye ladies,” he said, grinning evilly at their dreamy sighs. When he caught up with Derek and slid into the car just as Derek shut his own door, he deflated, sinking into the seat. “Did you even notice the two cops ogling you?” he asked, and Derek grunted absently as he started the car.

“I learned to tune out the ‘ogling’ when I was eighteen and great into my ears.” He looked at Stiles as he turned to watch his way while backing out. “Seatbelt,” he prompted, and Stiles nodded, pulling it on. He looked over, watching how the façade Stiles has been putting up at the station seemed to melt away. He shrunk in on himself and curled his arms around himself some. “You okay?” he asked softly.

Stiles nodded weakly. “It’s just tiring putting on a happy face when you’re internally fighting the urge to go hide somewhere.”

Derek nodded solemnly. “Why do I get the feeling you know a lot about putting on a happy face?” he asked quietly.

Stiles smiled a crumpled smile, one that looked like he wanted to make it genuine but it had been creased like a dollar in the dryer. “Practice,” he said weakly. He looked ahead, throat bobbing as he swallowed. “When I was seven my dad got shot,” he said. He shook his head. “It wasn’t bad, just in the arm, a routine domestic violence call gone wrong, and when he went to work every night after that, my mom would look so scared and stare at the clock. I always did my best to smile and make her laugh by doing something stupid because I was terrified too, I understood my dad had been _shot_ and I didn’t want him to die, but seeing her scared was worse than being afraid so I did everything to make sure she never knew how scared I was so that I could make her think about other stuff.” He swallowed, blinking hard. “Then when I was ten, my mom got sick,” he said, taking a shaky breath. “And at first, I thought she’d get better, but I heard my dad talking to the doctor and I didn’t know what the word ‘terminal’ meant, so I looked it up one night,” he said, shaking his head. 

“And when I realized my mom wasn’t going to get better, I really started to see how much my dad was falling apart because-“ His breath hitched and Derek reached out thoughtlessly, touching his wrist on the center console. “Because he didn’t know what to do. So I tried my hardest to learn how to always look happy. I learned how to smile without it looking fake. I learned how to hide feeling scared. Because my mom was going to die and I was terrified and she lived another year and all through it all, even when she was so sick she couldn’t get out of a hospital bed, I sat there beside her and never let her know I wasn’t okay. I didn’t want her to be worried about me and dad because she was the one who was dying and I know now from multiple experiences how scary it is when you ‘know’ you’re gonna die and I’m so glad I never let her see how scared I was too.” He looked down at his lap. “I learned to not be scared after she died and my dad didn’t stop drinking for almost a month straight. I was eleven years old and I had to learn how to cook and clean and I had to find out how to make my dad stop drinking and start getting better and I couldn’t show how scared I was because I didn’t want anybody to know how bad my dad was because I knew they would take me away if he wasn’t able to take care of me.” He took a breath. “And then even after things got better, I was still pretty much scared all the time before all this werewolf shit started because my dad can still get shot any time and he’s all I have, you know?” He sniffled. 

“So yeah,” he said, turning to look at the side of Derek’s with tears in his eyes. “I’m good at faking like I’m okay.”

Derek just slid his hand into Stiles’s, squeezing it. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” he said with a small smile.

Stiles chuckled. “What’s with you and all the touching?” he asked. Derek frowned and started to pull his hand away but Stiles whined, clinging tighter. “Not complaining, you just don’t seem like you’d welcome human interaction.”

Derek chuckled. “Funny choice of words.” He cleared his throat. “It’s a werewolf thing. Werewolves touch a lot. Packs touch each other all the time. I mean, mine don’t, really, but I try to get them to sometimes. They’re just all so _human_. It’s the problem with being turned, not born one. The instincts are different.”

Stiles actually smiled. “So what, you’re cuddle-deprived?” he teased and Derek smiled – one of his rare genuine smiles – and shook his head.

“It’s not necessarily ‘cuddles’ but just like touching each other to make sure everybody is alright. Leaning against each other when you walk past. Scent marking things really. You know how cats always rub against each other? It’s because they are marking each other with scent. That way if a cat comes up and smells wrong, they know it’s not part of their group.” He looked over for a minute. “You get enough scent marking from Scott that you’re mentally part of the pack, even if sometimes I wish you weren’t.”

Stiles huffed. “Wow, very comforting-“

“It’s not like that,” he said, squeezing Stiles’s hand. “You’re just… vulnerable.”

Stiles looked up. “Your pack had humans. Your family, I mean,” he challenged.

Derek nodded. “Most packs do, but I had never seen violence in my life until they were all murdered,” he said bluntly. “That’s the thing, Stiles. There was never a reason to think we’d be threatened. We were peaceful so the hunters weren’t even a thing really, just a rumor really. But now, my entire pack is up for grabs from supernatural things and hunters.” He shrugged lightly. “You are the only human I consider pack and you are the only one in the pack who can’t heal, can’t take a bullet and be okay, can easily be killed. This is not the pack for humans.”

Stiles sighed. “And then the closest real threat isn’t even pack related,” he mumbled tiredly.

Derek’s hand tightened almost painfully on his. “We can talk about something else, Stiles. I didn’t mean to make you feel-“

“Weak? Because I do,” Stiles said in a small voice. “I’m so much stronger than I was just a year ago and I still couldn’t- I couldn’t do a damn thing.”

Derek’s jaw clenched. “There’s a reason I don’t talk much. All I do is fuck things up. I swear, I didn’t mean-“

“I know,” Stiles said, holding his hand tighter. “I know you didn’t. It’s okay, Derek. I talk enough for both of us, if you want to be quiet. You’re allowed to be quiet.” He stroked his thumb along Derek’s knuckle. “And you’re allowed to mess things up. Nobody has to be perfect. Not even alpha werewolves.”

Derek nodded, but didn’t try and pull his hand away again.

~

Stile worried about school Monday, his face was obviously a nasty mess of bruises, but when he called Derek in a panic, locked in his bathroom with the lights out to hide his bruises, Derek said that he’d told Isaac when he got Isaac to help him get Stiles back to the Hale house that Stiles had got lost on a jog when he fell down a ravine and had to find a new way around. Stiles had been annoyed Derek didn’t warn him that before he made up his own story, but it was a decent and believable story. Stiles did go jogging in the woods sometimes and anybody would believe Stiles to be that clumsy.

However, when he got to school, the whole student body was in an uproar. For a bone chilling moment stiles thought they were all going to start whispering with their eyes on him, but thankfully, he was spared more fear as Lydia caught him just as he got inside and tugged him into walking with her. “Oh my God, did you hear?! Gale Andrews is in the hospital! He’s got two broken arms, broken ribs, and his nose, cheekbone, and orbital bone were all fractured! So much for the upcoming season in the winter,” she said dramatically.

Stiles faked a laugh. “What do you mean? He wasn’t that important. Scott’s the team captain and he’s only a junior. Gale was just one guy on the first line. Even I’m first line this year-“

Lydia turned on him, stopping them. “Oooh that’s right! You won us the championship last year. You’re the new MVP,” she realized and he shrugged awkwardly.

“Doubtful, but it’s going to be a good team this year.”

She hummed. “True. Besides, I think Gale is getting arrested to.” Stiles froze internally, though he let Lydia pull him along down the hall. “I don’t know what’s up, but Stacey went to see him and there are cops stationed outside his room, it seems. Probably drunk driving.”

Stiles relaxed some and actually managed to not freak out as he got his books and went to his first class.

~

Unfortunately, his third class, right before lunch, was Finstock. And of course, the teachers had heard the truth from somewhere so his purely ‘random’ choice of topics for the day was, “It’s come to my attention that some students need to have a lesson in ‘No means no!’”

Everyone looked confused, so Finstock continued uninterrupted. “Everybody has heard it since they were little that there were bad people out to get them. A bad man in a van driving down the street, the creepy neighbor who offers you candy, the suspicious guy on the corner wearing the trench coat that is NOT a fashion statement, don’t ever believe that guy by the way, he’s really selling crack, not tickets to see Madonna-“ Everyone was glancing around at each other in confusion. “One way or another we all know bad people exist.” He held up his hands. “However, sometimes the little ingrates who are warned all about stranger danger end up being nasty little perverts on their own and then they slip you roofies and you wake up in panama with two hookers and a midget drag queen and it is NOT what spring break was supposed to be.”

Stiles was pretty sure he was more mentally scarred from that mental image than his internal panic attack that was fighting to become a real one.

Finstock turned around. “Look, the statistical truth of the matter is that, most likely at least one person in this room has been sexually assaulted. Actually there’s a lot of people in this class so chances are, more than one person.” Stiles slid down in his chair a little, praying to whatever god existed that the eyes he felt on the back of his head were imaginary. “And trust me, teachers have to take these seminars and learn some freaky stuff, okay? So let’s have a little exercise!” He turned to Danny. “If you’re out with a girl who has had too much to drink, do you still have sex with her even if she’s too drunk to really say no?”

Danny made a face. “Do you really have to ask if I’d have sex with a girl, coach?” he asked and Finstock frowned, then seemed to remember.

“Oh, yeah, right, gay, whatever, switch genders and answer the question.”

Danny shook his head. “No way.”

Finstock slapped the desk. “Exactly! You see? Danny’s a decent human being. Is that so hard? Is that so difficult to get through your sick little MTV warped heads?!” He turned to Allison. “Argent, if you’re out with a boy and you make a move on him and he pushes your hands away and says ‘no’, do you keep trying to grope him?”

Allison raised an eyebrow. “Noooo,” she said, looking a little confused.

Finstock pointed at her. “Don’t make that face, young men get sexually assaulted too,” he said, then waved a hand over his shoulder at Danny. “And not just by each other, I know how dirty you teenage girls are, I have read the crap written on the walls in the girls room,” he said, and everyone in the room looked various degrees of confused and horrified. “Stilinski!”

Stiles felt his palms sweat and he bit his lip, fighting to keep his composure. He felt Scott still behind him and a foot tap the leg of his desk as the way his heartbeat shifted. “Yes?”

“Stilinski, does going out with you mean a girl should be expected to let you grab her boobs?” he challenged and Stiles swallowed hard.

“No, coach,” he said, then grabbed his bag. “Can I, um, bathroom?” he asked, and Coach waved a hand.

“Sure, whatever, you answered right, go ahead.”

Stiles wasted no time rushing form the room and full on sprinting all the way through the halls, around people yelling for him to stop running, and all the way to the locker room. He knew it was the only place that nobody would be during that period and he _needed_ somewhere quiet that he could have a small breakdown and cry without anybody hearing.

~

Naturally, Stiles knew it was too good to be true that _nobody_ in his werewolfy group of friends wouldn’t put two and two together and get the truth.

When he sat down with Scott at lunch, Scott frowned. “Are you okay? You just ran out of class-“

“I got sick,” Stiles said, cringing. “I ate like eight pop tarts for breakfast and it really didn’t settle well.”

Scott grinned. “Ha, I told you those things would kill you,” he said, then perked up some when Isaac plopped down across from him. “Dude, Stiles ate a ton of pop tarts and barfed, how gross is that?!” he asked and Isaac grinned.

“Nice one, Stiles.”

Lydia sat down beside Isaac. “Allison left early so I have nobody to sit with, Stiles at least reminded me you two are cool now since you’re going to be first line for Lacrosse,” she said succinctly. “So, what’re we talking about?”

Isaac gave her a confused look, but shrugged. “Stiles. He threw up cause he ate a ton of pop tarts and its super gross.”

Lydia stared and then hummed. “And just when I thought boys couldn’t get any grosser,” she said, sighing. “So Stiles and I already talked this morning about Gale Andrews getting beat up, but Allison told me about how Coach Finstock went off on a ‘no means no’ rant, so who bets he got beaten and raped?” she asked. “Seems too much of a coincidence that Finstock went on that rant the first day after a guy got his ass kicked so bad he’s still in the hospital from corrective surgery on his face. That’s probably why he had cops outside his room.”

Stiles fiddled with his bottle of water, trying to ignore the flashbacks of Gale ripping at his clothes and then hitting him in the face. His lip twinged from a phantom pain as he remembered the slap that busted it.

“Speaking of ass kickings, what happened to you?” Lydia asked Stiles. “I was too busy to ask this morning.”

Stiles cleared his throat. “I was jogging in the woods and fell down a hill. Got pretty banged up.”

Isaac nodded. “I’ll say, you were knocked out!” He turned to Lydia. “So what happened, I missed the details, since when is Gale Andrews gay?”

Lydia shrugged. “I didn’t think he was. Might be why he was beaten up and raped instead of having consensual sex-“

“He didn’t get raped, though,” Scott said. “My mom was one of the nurses and she asked me if we were friends and I said no, he was kind of an asshole, and she said she heard the police talking and Sunday morning they were talking about how _Derek Hale_ confessed to beating the hell out of Gale. Mom didn’t hear why, but dude, Isaac, is that where Derek disappeared to Saturday night? And why did he kick the shit out of Gale? What even?”

Isaac frowned and Stiles stopped breathing. “Can’t be right, Saturday night Derek found Stiles in the woods. When I found him, he was carrying Stiles back to the house because Stiles was unconscious and bleeding and he’d ripped his clothes and stuff and it was cold and rainy so Derek wanted to make sure he was oka-“ Stiles saw the moment it clicked for Isaac and his eyes moved to Stiles.

Scott didn’t seem to catch on, but Lydia looked from Isaac to Stiles. “Isaac, where were you guys out running?” she asked, eyes never leaving Stiles’s panicked face.

“In the Preserve. Near route nine,” he said, eyes flickering to Stiles.

Stiles closed his eyes, but Lydia’s voice still filtered into his ears, though it sounded like he was under water. “Gale was found in his car parked out on route nine.” There was a beat and Lydia’s voice broke through. “Stiles… were you really lost in the woods?” she asked, but Stiles snapped just then. He jumped up and walked away quickly, breaking into a run once it was clear of all the tables. 

He didn’t bother getting his bag from his locker, he didn’t bother even getting his hoodie from the locker, he just ran all the way outside, ignoring someone yelling for him to come back inside. He rushed to his jeep, pulled his keys from his pocket, and left, not stopping until he was on his way home.

~

When Stiles got home, his dad wasn’t there, but he had barely made it into the garage so that he could break down crying in his jeep in private when he heard the tell-tale squeal of tires on the road. He opened the door and turned to get out, only to have hands outstretched before he got there. “It’s okay,” Derek whispered, letting Stiles collapse into his arms. “It’s okay, you’re safe, I promise,” he breathed, holding Stiles as he fell apart in Derek’s arms.

Stiles was too busy fighting to breathe through his tears that he didn’t realize Derek had got them inside until he and Derek slid to the kitchen floor, just inside from the mud room, and Derek held him, leaning back against the cabinets, while Stiles clung to his jacket and let it all out.

It took about twenty minutes before Stiles could really breathe straight. When he finally unfisted his hands and twisted enough so that he was settled mostly against the counter beside Derek, with his head on Derek’s shoulder and his arms around Derek’s middle, he exhaled shakily and spoke. “I didn’t think they would work it out,” he admitted weakly.

Derek chuckled tiredly. “I didn’t either. Scott is so clueless it’s sad ninety percent of the time and then the one time you try and hide something he works it out.”

Stiles laughed wetly. “To be fair, Lydia started it.” He groaned. “Coach Finstock started it really.”

Derek grunted. “I always hated that bastard. He gave me a B in P.E. one semester because I didn’t want to wear shorts.” Stiles laughed and Derek smiled. “What did he do?”

Stiles groaned. “Apparently even if my name wasn’t attached, the teachers were notified that one of their students is facing sexual assault charges so he decided we needed a ‘no means no’ lesson – in economics I might add – and he was giving people hypothetical situations and when he got to me, I answered then asked to go to the bathroom and went to have a panic attack. Lunch was right after so I told Scott and Isaac that I barfed from eating a lot of pop tarts, but then Lydia sat down and started guessing that Gale must’ve been raped with his beating because of the impromptu ‘rape is bad’ seminar.” He cringed. “Scott said he couldn’t have been raped because his mom heard the cops say _you_ had beat his ass and confessed to it.”

Derek groaned. “And Isaac brought up that at the time he was beaten, I was saving you from hypothermia,” he guessed and Stiles nodded.

“Lydia got it and then Isaac got it and I don’t know if Scott got it before I ran away or not because I haven’t looked at my phone,” he said weakly. “I left everything and just ran to my jeep and came home.”

Derek nodded, resting his chin on top of Stiles’s head. “Isaac texted me as soon as you ran away and I knew you would be coming home. Figured you really didn’t need to be alone.”

Stiles smiled. ‘Thank you for being so nice to me.”

Derek just smiled. “Well, if I let you lose your mind from the fear I’d have to learn to research on my own and I hate the internet,” he joked, earning a small giggle from Stiles.

“You could always talk Lydia into joining. She’s literally a certified genius. They had her tested and everything,” he said softly.

Derek grumbled. “I know, she scares me,” he admitted, making Stiles smile. “I’m not exactly unintelligent so I don’t like being around people that much smarter than me.”

Stiles grinned against his shirt. “What are you doing with me, then? I’ve got a ninety-five total average,” he said and Derek pulled back, raising an eyebrow at Stiles in surprise. “What? Why does everyone doubt my intelligence?”

Derek made a face. “How do you put up with _Scott_ if you’re really smart?” he asked incredulously.

Stiles frowned warningly. “Hey, he’s my best bro, I don’t care if he’s a big, dumb puppy. He’s been my only friend since I was ten.” He sat up, stretching. “What about you, Mr. Sour Wolf. If you’re scared of intelligence, why go for Boyd? He’s nearly as smart as me.”

Derek shook his head, sitting up to face Stiles. “Never said I didn’t like intelligence. It’s awesome. Just not super-genius Lydia scary smartness,” he said and Stiles nodded in understanding. “Besides, I got a degree in architecture and design in two and a half years, I’m clearly not unintelligent,” he said with a shrug.

Stiles perked up. “Did not know you had a degree,” he said and Derek nodded, grabbing Stiles’s hand, tracing at his wrist. “Why did you get it so fast?” he asked. “I mean, why rush college?”

Derek smiled. “I wanted to start training as soon as possible. I got a GED when we got to New York, took the SAT, and started at seventeen, finished a few weeks after I turned twenty. That way I was able to get into training at Engine 205, not far from where Laura and I lived-“

Stiles jumped. “Whoa, you were a _firefighter_?” he asked, and Derek nodded, looking down at his lap. Stiles suddenly felt a wave of sympathy and couldn’t help but slide both his hands into Derek’s. “I can probably understand that,” he said and Derek nodded solemnly.

“I’ve never told anybody that,” he admitted. He looked up. “I haven’t talked to anybody about New York. Not even Isaac.” He sighed. “But yeah, I was training to be one before all this… happened.”

Stiles nodded. “I bet werewolves make great rescue dogs,” he joked and Derek actually laughed.

“You are terrible,” he said, shoving Stiles away. 

Stiles bit his lip and looked at Derek. “Thank you for coming and helping me. Again.”

Derek shrugged. “You’re pack. What else would I do?”

~

Derek had stayed with Stiles as he checked his phone and saw a missed call from Scott and two texts asking if he was okay. Derek let Stiles use his shoulder as a pillow as they settled on the couch ad turned on something random on TV while Stiles calmed himself down more. Derek stayed all afternoon and was still there when the back door opened and Scott came in, looking around. “Stiles? Stiles, it’s just me. And me is Scott.”

Stiles snorted. “I told you, big, dumb, puppy,” he said and Derek smiled tightly. When Scott got to the doorway, he stopped, hesitating as he looked at the two of them. Stiles pulled his legs up, looking down at his knees. He glanced up and saw Scott hesitating, hand open but not touching the wall he was pretending to lean on casually.

“S-Stiles?” he asked softly, looking a little afraid.

Stiles sighed and held out his hand. “I’m okay,” he said and, apparently, that was all Scott needed. He rushed over and nearly crawled into Stiles’s lap, hugging him.

“Stiles, oh God, are you okay? God of course not- Do you want- Anything you need?” he asked, biting his lip. “I’ll leave if you need me to-“

Stiles pulled him into a hug, eyes shut as he swallowed hard. “It’s okay, dude. I’m fine.”

Scott winced. “Well I’m not, I’m not at all okay with- well, first off, did- what we all kinda figured out, is it-“

Stiles just held up a hand. “Breathe,” he said and Derek put a hand between his shoulder blades. “I- I was-“

Scott looked at him with honest to God tears in his eyes. “Stiles, you don’t have to talk about it, okay?” He swallowed hard and Stiles felt an overwhelming wave of love for his best friend when Scott’s breath hitched and he nodded tightly. “If you can’t, it’s okay. I just want you to know that I will murder anybody who says a damn thing to you,” he said, eyes flickering to Derek uneasily.

Stiles pulled Scott into a crushing hug once more. “You’re my favorite person most of the time, okay? You’re the best friend anybody ever had and please never change.” He pulled back and wiped at his face when Scott let out a wet laugh, rubbing his own face with his sleeves. “Derek is fine. Derek- Derek’s sort of putting up with me being a little extra needy right now.”

Scott looked past Stiles at Derek. “Did you really break both of Gale Andrews’s arms?” he asked, and Derek nodded. “Good.”

Stiles chuckled weakly. “I didn’t get raped,” he said and Scott deflated visibly. “It was still- it was still really not okay. He-“ He shuddered. “He t-touched me and- and hit me and it’s still the scariest thing I’ve ever faced – even scarier than the kanima – and I just don’t want people to know.”

Scott nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry we worked it out, but nobody else did and you know we won’t talk.”

Derek huffed. “You sure as hell won’t because I’ll _kill you_ ,” he threatened. 

Stiles leaned back into the hand on his back. “Derek- Derek makes me feel safe right now.” He nodded. “He was the one who- he saved me so I can’t help it.”

Scott nodded. “And he’s our alpha. It makes sense.” Stiles looked confused and Scott tipped his head at Derek. “Human or not, he’s your alpha. An alpha takes care of his pack. Even if he wasn’t worth a crap as a person, he would still protect his pack.”

Derek nodded. “Of course I would,” he said. “But I’d have done that for anybody. I’m not a bad person.”

Scott nodded. “I- I know, but I meant- really-“

Stiles grabbed Scott’s hand. “Yeah, we get you,” he said, sighing. “I’m just really not in a good headspace now,” he admitted and Scott nodded.

“I can understand that.” He looked at Stiles’s face then whimpered. “I don’t like it. It’s not right for you to be hurt.”

Stiles chuckled. “Yeah, well, I don’t like it either.” He sighed, relaxing back against Derek’s side, smiling sadly when Scott curled up against him. “I’ll be okay, Scott.”

Scott shrugged, resting his head on Stiles’s shoulder. “Don’t care,” he said softly. “Just let me.”

Stiles smiled and glanced at Derek, who looked amused, then nodded, putting a hand on top of Scott’s head.

~

Stiles was grateful that his father was the sheriff quite often, but never as much as when the news came that there wasn’t going to be a trial and there was no more reasons to worry about having it become public that he was the victim of Gale Andrews’s sexual assault case. He was going to prison where he belonged and Stiles didn’t have to worry about anybody else talking about it or his name coming out.

His father, however, was _not_ happy about the sentence. He got home so angry that he didn’t even bother to look twice at Derek casually sitting in their living room like it was a normal occurrence. 

(It was, just not when John was home. Stiles knew his dad still didn’t like Derek even if he was grateful Derek saved him. Scott and Derek were actually getting along quite well since Stiles was attacked because Derek spent more time with Stiles and Scott did as well, when he could.)

“Three fucking years!” John shouted angrily as he stormed into the kitchen, all but throwing his gun belt on the table. “Three years! Fuck, Hale would’ve done _five_ for beating his ass if he hadn’t been defending another person!”

Derek looked up, eyes flickering for a minute in a way that made Stiles glad his dad couldn’t see. “What does he mean ‘three years’?” he asked Stiles, who sighed.

“Prison sentence for Gale Andrews,” he said and Derek growled. “Oh stop it, Sour Wolf, my dad will hear you,” he said, shoving at his chest lightly. He smiled sadly. “He’s in prison, that’s what matters-“

“You mean in California you can _rape_ someone and only go to prison for a few years?!” Derek asked, standing up to walk towards the kitchen. “John, are the sexual assault laws that lax?!” he asked angrily.

John sighed and nodded. “Sad to say, Son, they really are,” he said, pouring himself a drink. “Maximum sentence is six years. He got less because he’s a teenager, even if he is eighteen, and Stiles is over the age of fourteen. Plus Stiles isn’t a woman and even if he had been, there wasn’t _actual_ rape. And because they didn’t take it to court.” He snorted. “I should’ve shot the little bastard.”

Derek huffed. “I shouldn’t have told anybody where to find him,” he said, crossing his arms. John chuckled humorlessly and grabbed another glass, pouring Derek a drink. He slid it across the table and Derek eyed it, then made a face. “Sorry, I don’t drink.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Really? Did not see that coming,” he said, drinking it himself.

“Okay!” Stiles shoved past Derek and took the bottle from his dad. “You’re a lightweight, don’t do that,” he said, glaring at his father. “We have talked about this,” he said, going to put away the bottle.

John rolled his eyes, then looked up, pausing as if suddenly realizing something, and then turning to look at Derek. “Wait, why are you in my house?” he asked, and Derek raised an amused eyebrow. “Stiles, since when is Derek Hale in my house a thing?” he asked pointedly.

Stiles shifted, shrugging. “Sometimes he comes over when Scott does and hangs out. Scott just left already.”

John hummed, looking at Derek. “What kind of drug dealer doesn’t drink?” he asked suspiciously.

Stiles gasped. “DAD!” he cried. 

Derek just met John’s gaze evenly. “Not a drug dealer. Never even smoked pot before,” he said and Stiles actually raised an eyebrow at him.

John frowned. “Really? What are you, a nun?” he asked, and Stiles cleared his throat pointedly. “So… pimp?” he asked, then gaped. “Oh God, Scott’s not a prostitute is he, Stiles? I cannot be the one to bust Melissa’s son for soliciting-“

“Oh my God, Dad STOP!” he cried. “Scott is _not a prostitute!_ ”

John looked troubled. “You’re not, right Stiles?”

Stiles glowered. “Dad, I’m not a call boy, Derek is not a pimp!”

John sat down heavily. “Then what? What are you Hale? You’re in too much trouble to be just a victim of misfortunate circumstances,” he groaned. Stiles knew his dad was clearly both over-emotional and a little tipsy, seeing as he rarely cursed and almost never showed how unnerved he was. “If you aren’t dealing drugs, doing drugs, running a whore house, I’d go with gang but we don’t really have gang presence in a town this small. So what is it? Is it some weird religious cult?” he asked. “That might explain the not drinking.”

Derek gave him a long look. “Sir, would you just believe that I’m _not_ doing anything wrong? I know I look like I stepped out of a dark alley, but I can assure you that I’ve never done anything wrong.” He looked the sheriff in the eyes. “Bad things happen to me. They just do. I don’t know why one bad choice defined my whole life but I can promise I don’t go looking for the trouble that I end up in.” He ducked his head and Stiles was surprised by the vulnerability Derek was giving off as he crossed his arms across his chest, leaning in the doorway. “I’ll be twenty-three in a few months, I’ve got no family, I’m homeless, the only people I socialize with are a bunch of teenagers who got themselves into the things that seem to find me and go wrong, I’ve been the suspect of two crimes in one year, one of which was my only sister being killed violently.” He looked up with such sadness in his eyes that Stiles wanted to reach out and grab his hand, but thought better of it. “A year ago, I was putting aside my hard-earned degree in architecture to enter in training to be a firefighter in Brooklyn. I didn’t want to come back to Beacon Hills, but my sister came back without warning and then _died_ and I came to see what happened. That’s it. All I did was come looking for the truth about my sister and all I’ve found is more and more trouble.”

John looked like he felt like an asshole – which Stiles figured he probably should – and he nodded. “Did you ever think of just… leaving Beacon Hills?” John asked and Stiles glared, but Derek actually laughed.

“Yes, a thousand times, but I got mixed up in something and I’m sorry I can’t ask for your help, John, but I just can’t. I’ve got obligations here now. For one, Isaac needs me. He has nobody else either.” He took a breath. “So I’m here at least until he finishes school and that’s not until over a year from now. I’m not making him change schools this close to the end of high school. If we left now, he’d end up dropping out like I did.”

John just nodded. “I want to like you, Hale,” he said, surprising Stiles. “I want to believe everything you told me. But the fact of it is, you keep getting mixed up in things that make no sense and that spells bad news. I can’t trust you. I am grateful you’re taking care of the Lahey kid and I’m glad Stiles seems to trust you, but you seem to be the common denominator in teenagers getting mixed up into trouble in this town and I cannot possibly like you.”

Derek nodded. “I understand. I really do. I hope one day you can trust me, even if you don’t like me, because Even if both of us tried to stop him, we both know Stiles can’t be stopped,” he said, and Stiles huffed.

“Right, yeah, okay now that you two had you heart to heart, Derek has to go now!” he said, grabbing Derek’s elbow. “Let me show you to the door,” he said loudly as he dragged Derek away. “Say bye, Dad!” Stiles dragged Derek out onto the front porch, then went back in to get his leather jacket and bring it to him. “ _What the hell was that_?!” he hissed. “Oh my God, you just opened up to my DAD! Why are you being so… not you?!” he asked frantically, hands flying around. “You’re being all- all ‘I’m a sweet little kicked puppy, love me!’ to my dad and I’ve never seen you do that thing with your face, the one where you look all weak and vulnerable, and it’s _freaking weird_ -“

“Stiles, your father knows I have been hanging out in his house,” Derek said roughly. “Of course I put on the ‘love me, I’m an unfortunate orphan’ show! That man can arrest my ass. Or shoot me. Or both!” he snapped. “You were distracting me so I didn’t hear him drive up before it was too late to run!” He threw his hands out. “I’m covering my ass, Stiles! I don’t care how weird it is, I’ve got to do so if I want him off my back! If you and Scott would just tell the poor bastard the truth-“

“And what?! Put my dad in more danger than he’s already in?!” Stiles demanded. “Scott’s mom found out and what happened?! She was about twenty minutes from being eaten by a kanima-“

“And before she knew she got _locked in a cage_ by the kanima’s master,” Derek pointed out. “Your dad got hurt already and he didn’t know shit. Look, I get it, I really do, but the longer he doesn’t know, the more he’s looking for whatever I’m doing! If I’m in prison, who will protect you?!” he shouted angrily.

Stiles swallowed hard. “I don’t need your protection, Derek. I’m grateful you have saved me in the past, I’m not at all denying that, but I’ve saved your life too. I don’t _need_ you to save me all the time.”

Derek’s face grew darker. “Then what about when your lies reach a point you can’t cover your ass and he starts to hate you for it?” he asked and Stiles paled. “You’re already losing him. You know you are. He’s slipping further into not trusting anything about you, Stiles. Scott’s mother is more happy and more trusting since she knows-“

“She also looked at him like- like he was a monster,” Stiles whispered, wiping angrily at his cheek as a tear slid down his face. “She cringed away from him. She didn’t speak to him for days. I can’t let my dad look at me like that-“

“So you’d rather him be a little afraid and confused for a few days than trust you again?” Derek asked, sighing. “Look, I’m sorry Stiles, but it’s my ass on the line here. I’ve got to either stop being anywhere near you to keep him from pinning my ass with something, or you’ve got to come clean. I’m _not_ going to jail,” he said simply as he turned and left the house.

Stiles watched him go and then marched inside, slamming the door angrily. 

~

In the end, Stiles didn’t even get to make the choice to tell his dad. Worse yet, Stiles wasn’t even _there_. Worst of all, his dad got attacked by a rogue Omega. 

Stiles was at home, wondering where Derek was, when his phone rang and he was surprised to see Allison’s number. “Allison? What-“

“Stiles, it’s Chris Argent,” Argent said and Stiles jumped. “Look, before you panic, he’s absolutely fine-“

“Oh God, Scott!” Stiles cried in alarm, only to nearly drop the phone when Chris continued.

“No… I’m afraid your father got hurt. He’s okay, don’t worry, but he’s over here at my apartment. You should probably get over here and help your boyfriend explain before your dad shoots him.”

“My _what_?!” Stiles cried about the same time as he heard two voices in the background echo, ‘His WHAT?!’.

“Look, just get over here, okay?” Argent asked and Stiles was already on the way out the door before he even hung up.

~

When Stiles got upstairs, Allison answered the door with an uneasy smile. “Hey, Stiles, don’t worry, your dad’s okay.”

She led the way into a dining room, where John was sitting on one end of the table in his undershirt with fresh stitches on his arm. “Dad!” Stiles cried, rushing over. “Shit, what happened?!” he asked, looking at the bite. “Oh God!” he cried paling.

“No, it was an omega,” a voice said, and Stiles looked up and finally noticed Argent and Derek sitting at the other end, across from each other. 

Stiles sighed. “Oh thank God.” He hugged his father, whimpering. “Dad, Jesus, what happened?!”

John looked down at the other end of the table, glaring at both men. “Apparently I’m the sheriff of Sunnydale,” he said flatly and Stiles cringed.

“Yeah… sort of.”

“Sort of like you being grounded for life for not telling me _your best friend is a werewolf?!_ ” John demanded and Stiles sat down heavily.

“Look, what would you have really done if I said ‘Scott got bit by a werewolf’?” he asked and John rolled his eyes.

“Thought you were on drugs, but you could’ve proven it to me,” he pointed out. “All this time, all this freaking time, and you could’ve said it. Jesus, kid, you’ve run around and lied and let me worry you had joined a satanic cult when really you’re mixed up in werewolves!”

Stiles turned to Argent. “What happened? I thought you were out of the business?”

Chris nodded. “I am. But I still keep a gun in my car and your dad was lucky for it. I was on my way home and I saw he had pulled someone over and just as I drove past and glanced in the rearview, the omega had come out of his car and attacked your father.”

Stiles groaned. “Derek, why was there an omega in town you didn’t know about?”

Derek gave him a flat look. “Because he was driving through town in a car, not running through the woods like most of them do.”

Chris chuckled. “I figured it was best to call your boyfriend when your father kind of lost it and shot the omega as he ran away.” He narrowed his eyes at Derek. “He let him get away.”

Derek glowered. “First off I am _not_ his boyfriend for the last time. Second, I really was going to let you put a wolfs bane bullet in him but he got away.”

Argent gave him a disbelieving look. “Yeah right, you would’ve voluntarily let me kill one of yours just for attacking one of mine-“

“Stop being a racist,” Stiles snapped, startling them all. “Calling a random omega ‘one of yours’ is like calling every bastard out there ‘one of mine.’ I can think of plenty of humans that I do not claim any link to, a few I’d like to kill myself, even. Pretty sure you can too,” he said pointedly. “And my dad is not one of ‘yours’, Argent. He’s way more of ‘one of Derek’s’ than he is of yours,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“Apparently he’s one of _yours_ ,” John said pointedly and Stiles huffed.

“He is _not_ my boyfriend, Dad. Ignore Argent. He’s really not,” he stressed.”

John just shook his head. “Thank you for that terrifying thought – again – but I meant you seem to have some secret life as a werewolf whisperer.” He looked at him. “I’m assuming that’s all the trouble you’ve been getting into?”

Stiles nodded sadly. “We can talk about that later, Dad.”

“Or we can talk about it now,” John said. “Argent clearly knows about the werewolves. Seems to really hate Hale. And Hale is a- did you say an ‘alpha’?” he asked, looking down the table.

Stiles took a breath, then let it out slowly. “Yes, Derek is my alpha,” he said, noticing Argent’s eye roll. “Shut up, jackass,” he said without even looking. “Packs have humans. The Hale pack had them before your psychotic sister murdered them, the new Hale pack has them now.”

John paled. “So it was arson?” he asked, and Derek made a noise.

“Wow, thanks Stiles, bring up my whole family being dead and it being my fault, that’s an even better addition to this night,” Derek droned sarcastically, sliding down in his chair.

However, Stiles whipped around, eyes wide. “What?! No, Derek, I never said it’s your fault!” he gushed apologetically. “I’d never say that-“

“Look,” Chris said tightly. “What my sister did was horrible and I’ll never forget that. But do you have to mention that now?” he asked, nodding at Allison, who was still lingering in the doorway.

John waved a hand. “I think he does, Argent, because I want the story. Was Kate Argent the young lady I’ve been trying to find in relation to the Hale fire?” he asked pointedly.

Chris looked surprised. “You’re still looking into that? It was years ago-“

“It was six years ago and I was on that call,” John said tightly. “I was there when the sheriff before me told that boy right there-“ He pointed to Derek, who was still looking down at his hands. “That the only survivor in his entire family besides himself and his sister was comatose. When it came up again during the murders Derek was suspected of, I found a lead. A young woman wearing a distinct necklace spoke to a drunk man who told her all about how to burn something down and then a week later the Hale family house burned. I haven’t had time to look further lately, but it’s still been active.”

Stiles nodded. “It was Kate Argent. She was psychotic. Just like her father, she wanted them all dead. All werewolves. Even if they never did anything. No idea how she got the whole family like that, since Peter and his family didn’t even live there, they were visiting, but she did.”

Chris nodded. “I guess she got lucky.”

John, however, looked over at Derek. “Or, you know something,” he said and Derek shook his head.

Stiles glared. “Dad, leave him the hell alone.” He stood up and ignored his father or the Argents staring and stood behind Derek’s chair, putting a hand on his shoulder lightly. “Hey, if you want to leave, you can go ahead. You shouldn’t have to hear about this,” he said gently. He leaned over and looked at his face, resting both hands on Derek’s shoulders. “Wanna go home? I’m sure Isaac can distract you.”

Derek cleared his throat and shook his head. “Your father deserves his answers. Can we just get on a topic not about… that?”

Chris nodded. “Okay the short of it, Sheriff, is that my family used to be werewolf hunters. Argents for centuries have had a family business, of sorts. We hunted werewolves by a code: only kill werewolves who have spilled human blood. The Hales were peaceful. They really were. My sister killed an innocent family and I know that now. I just didn’t know it until this year. We came back because all those ‘animal attacks’? They were a werewolf.”

Derek cleared his throat. “My uncle. He was starting to wake up from his catatonic state, but it wasn’t- it wasn’t all at once. His werewolf side was waking up and attacking while he was still healing. By the time he woke up, he’d murdered my sister to become the alpha and he’d killed anybody related to the fire. He was out for revenge.” 

Stiles nodded. “Peter bit Scott because he needed a beta but was still in wolf-only phase and didn’t make a good choice. Then later, when he was Peter, he attacked a lot. He was the one who was in the school that night, we only blamed Derek because we thought he was dead and it was more logical than ‘werewolf’.” John shook his head and sighed. “He also attacked Lydia Martin, he kidnapped me, he did a lot of scary shit, he offered to bite me but I said no-“

“He _what_?!” Derek demanded and Stiles nodded.

“Yeah, offered me the bite. Said it was a shame he bit Scott instead of someone who would be better for him,” he said, shuddering. “Then, there was the killing Psycho Murder Bitch, who was fucking insane, Dad, she locked Derek up and tortured him and tried to make Allison kill him and then tried to kill Scott and she even would’ve killed me, I’m pretty sure, but whatever, point is, Peter killed her and then Derek killed him to stop him from killing more people.”

Derek nodded. “And that’s how I became an alpha. You kill and alpha, you become one.”

Stiles nodded. “And long story short, all those murders after that was because Derek was stupid and bit Jackson but Jackson was ‘wrong’ or something and turned into a lizard monster that paralyzed people – got me like three times, Derek about as many – and that time at the station? The kid who you think killed them?” John looked shocked. “Yeah he did but with the kanima as the tool of choice. Jackson wasn’t aware of anything he was doing. Also in there, Lydia accidentally brought Peter back from the dead but he’s like ‘pre-evil’ Peter, not evil Peter, but he’s still probably a pedophile,” Stiles warned. “And then the night of the Lacrosse game that I kicked ass at and nobody but you even noticed, Dad, I got kidnapped by Psycho Kate’s Psycho Dad and he tortured me to send a message to Scott but Scott never noticed and then I wasn’t around for the fight but I saved the day by running Jackson over and then Derek and Peter killed him but he came back alive and then his family left in the night,” he finished lamely.

Derek, however, tensed under his hands. “Gerard Argent _tortured_ you?!”

“Holy shit, that power surge,” Chris said, pale as a sheet. “He- he had two betas in the basement and I knew he had electricity to keep them weakened but- he- you?” he asked, and Stiles nodded, flinching.

“Yeah. Took me off the field when the lights went out. Beat the hell out of me, threw me in your basement, beat me some more, tortured me as a ‘message’ to Scott, and then they didn’t even look for me,” he said weakly. “Some planning there, huh?”

Derek reached up and grabbed Stiles’s arm. “If I had known-“

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles said softly. “Whatever, he’s dead by now, I’ve had a worse beating since, and Dad has the basic story.”

John just put his face in his hands. “Alright, that’s enough for now. Let’s go home, Stiles,” he said, standing up. He pointed at Derek. “You and I will talk later. And Argent, you better stay retired like you say you are,” he said simply.

He pulled on his shirt and put on his gun belt again. Stiles hovered as they headed out. “Dad, you really okay?” he asked softly.

John scoffed. “I think I should be asking you that,” he said, then turned to him. “Therapy, Stiles. You are starting therapy _this week_.”

Stiles frowned. “What? Dad-“

“I had considered a counselor after your attack, but now that I know you’ve been tortured and seen people killed and been in all this dangerous stuff, that’s it. Therapy for sure.” He put his arm around Stiles. “I’m not letting you end up messed up like Derek Hale,” he said, and Stiles sighed.

“Dad, Derek’s whole family died and his uncle murdered his sister. He has more issues than Readers Digest, I’ve had just a few-“

John cut him off with a knowing look. “Torture. Sexual assault. Dead people. Therapy.”

Stiles nodded, chuckling weakly. “Alright, Dad, we’ll see.”

~

Stiles didn’t like therapy. It was a waste of his dad’s insurance company’s money, if you asked Stiles, because he couldn’t be honest about anything other than Gale Andrews. He had to lie and make things up and the therapist knew it and also knew it was a waste of her time to speak with him. Obviously, she never got annoyed openly, but he could see the look in her eyes. 

“It’s just stupid,” Stiles grumbled, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “I know what they charge for this crap and it isn’t going to do me any good to talk to a stranger about problems I have to lie about,” he said, watching as Derek walked around the couch with sodas. “It’s not going to help me and it’s eating up my free time spending two hours a week talking to a shrink.”

Derek handed Stiles a coke and sat down in the space Stiles moved his feet from, not even surprised anymore when Stiles put his feet back on Derek’s lap. “Maybe it’s working and you don’t know it?” he suggested.

Stiles snorted. “Says the one person in Beacon Hills who is probably more mentally scarred than me.”

Derek cringed. “Stiles, you saying that when you don’t even know some of my bigger issues is terrible for my self-esteem,” he said and Stiles shot him a flat look.

“If you have self-esteem issues, we’ve got bigger problems than your ‘bigger issues’,” he said. “As an alpha, my alpha to be exact, it would be great if you’re a very confident person who believes his decisions are the right ones.”

Derek snorted. “You’re smarter than the others, you know good and damn well I’m never confident in my decisions.” He took a sip of his drink and rested his hand on Stiles’s ankle. “You’re the one who yells at me when I do something stupid.”

Stiles smirked. “Did you just give me a compliment? You said I’m smarter than the others!”

“Don’t let it get to your head, it’s far from a compliment to be called ‘smarter than Scott’, isn’t it?” he asked and Stiles nodded.

“Touché,” he said, then sighed. “I just hate this therapy shit, dude. I can’t tell her anything real and I don’t feel comfortable telling her things I don’t talk about. I mostly just talk about school and my friends and lie about the fact my friends are werewolves,” he said with a grumble, shifting to look at the TV.

Derek tugged at his ankle lightly. “What don’t you feel comfortable talking about? You mean you don’t even talk to her about what happened?”

Stiles shook his head, looking down the couch at Derek. “Not really. I told her I got sexually assaulted and she asked me some things about if it made it hard for me to relate to my friends anymore, and I said ‘no, my friends are still the same, even if a few of them know and we don’t talk about it, so that part is fine’ and then she has tried asking other things but I really don’t want to talk to some stranger about _why I don’t date_ ,” he said, making a face. “Why the hell would I talk about my non-existent dating habits with this woman I don’t know? Who does this? Why do therapists ask you this stuff?” 

Derek shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine talking to somebody I don’t know about personal stuff. I mean, people talk about it like it’s a judgment free zone, but I’d rather talk to people I trust. So nobody, really,” he added with a weak chuckle.

Stiles bit his lip, looking at his fingers. “My mom… she had a therapist. Near the end,” he said softly. His eyes flickered up to meet Derek’s and he shrugged. “She said that- that it was good to have someone to talk to you didn’t have to worry about upsetting. Someone who wouldn’t be scared by whatever my mom was thinking. But that’s a lot different. I wouldn’t want to talk to my dad about being attacked or about my mom because of the same thing. I wouldn’t want to worry him. But it doesn’t mean I want to talk to a stranger either, you know?”

Derek rubbed his thumb in soothing circles on the inside of Stiles’s ankle. “Do you ever talk to your therapist about your mom?” he asked softly.

Stiles shook his head, swallowing. “I saw the school counselor after my mom died. I never said a word to him. Every afternoon for two weeks I just sat there and looked at him. I don’t- I hate talking about her because it still hurts,” he admitted weakly, voice cracking slightly. “Scott never asks and my dad can’t really talk about it much and Scott’s mom is nice enough to not try and nobody else really knows about- about what it was like.” He cleared his throat, wiping fiercely at his eyes before a tear could fall. “Nobody else can really understand it so I don’t like talking. I don’t want to try and help someone else see inside my head. I don’t need to be fixed because I’m not broken. I have bad memories and I have some problems, but- but I’m okay in the grand scheme of things.” He smiled sadly. “My mom always said I always bounced back from things as a kid.” He laughed softly. “This one time- one time I wanted to fly so bad I jumped off the roof. Then when I still had the cast on my arm, I jumped out of the tree house and broke my other arm,” he said and Derek laughed.

“I can see that easily,” he said, looking over at Stiles. “I was quiet,” he said suddenly and Stiles laughed.

“Was? I think you still are pretty quiet,” he teased, and Derek rolled his eyes.

“When I was little. My mom, she always talked about how out of all her kids, I never cried much. After the stage where all a baby can do is cry, eat, and sleep, I didn’t really cry. I’d fall down and instead of crying about it, I’d just sit quietly and look sad. She thought something was wrong with me, but I ended up always being quiet. I would go whole days without saying anything to anybody. I was okay, I wasn’t suffering some brain problem or anything, I just didn’t like to talk. I listened instead.” He smiled distantly, looking down at Stiles’s feet unseeingly. “Everybody was used to me being quiet and they knew to be careful what they said because I knew everybody’s secrets. I heard about Laura liking this boy in her class at school and I would use it against her when I wanted something. I was so sneaky I’d blackmail my brother into washing dishes when it was my turn because I knew he was the one who broke Mom’s favorite mug.” Derek cringed. “Uncle Peter always said I was going to grow up to be a smart man.”

Stiles cringed. “Ew, Peter.”

Derek shook his head. “He was different. Before, he was my favorite person most of the time. When he and his wife and their daughters came to visit, I’d spend all day hanging out with him. He was nothing like the person he is now.”

Stiles nodded, eyebrows raised. “Yep, death and zombification probably does change you,” he said and Derek actually huffed out a laugh. 

“Laura would’ve really liked you,” he said softly, then smiled sadly as he met Stiles’s eyes.

Stiles smiled tentatively, ducking his eyes. “Yeah?” he asked, and Derek nodded.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “She was really loud and outgoing and sarcastic. She made everybody laugh.” He laughed softly. “I remember this one time, Kyle was sick and Laura made him start laughing and he ended up having a coughing fit so bad he blacked out from it.”

Stiles frowned. “Werewolves can get that sick?” he asked.

Derek looked up, face pale. “Well, we can, but Kyle was human,” he said softly. “I had a baby sister who was human too.”

Stiles’s chest constricted. “Baby sister?” he asked.

Derek nodded. “Kyle was the youngest, but I had two sisters so I thought of them as ‘big sister’ and ‘baby sister’. Kyle was eight and Cora was eleven,” he all but whispered. 

Stiles sat up and shifted his feet out of Derek’s lap. Derek startled and looked at him, but Stiles just shifted to his knees and pulled Derek’s hand into his lap. “Tell me about them,” he whispered, blinking back tears as he imagined how much more it had to hurt to lose so much than his own hurt from losing his mom. “Were they all as grumpy as you?” he asked with a wet laugh and Derek smiled faintly.

“Cora was really dramatic,” he started, leaning his head against Stiles’s shoulder. “She and Kyle were like me and Laura, they were closer in age and played more, and whenever he did anything, she would cry and scream and run around blaming him for any little thing.” He chuckled. “One time she blamed Kyle for her favorite dress going missing when she was the one that left it under her bed instead of put it in the hamper.” He closed his eyes. “Kyle was just happy. He was always happy. When it rained and nobody could go outside, he always said something about how ‘that’s okay, we can just go outside tomorrow’ and never let anything get him down.”

Stiles leaned his cheek against the top of Derek’s head. “What about your cousins? What were they like?” he prompted, curling his free hand around the back of Derek’s neck, closing his eyes and just listening as Derek talked, letting Derek tell him anecdotes about his family. 

When Derek had long been gone and Stiles’s dad returned, Stiles didn’t say anything as he met his dad at the door and hugged him, not letting go for a long time.

~

When the doorbell rang, Derek didn’t react. He was at Stiles’s desk looking up what he could about gnomes ( _Derek, there are not gnomes, I refuse to believe it_ , Stiles had argued) so he wasn’t surprised someone had showed up. However, Stiles clearly wasn’t expecting anyone because from the bed behind Derek came a loud groan.

“Derek go eat whoever it is and make them stop?” Stiles whined.

Derek looked over at the bed and was reminded how ill Stiles was. Stiles lay curled up against the head of the bed with a book in his hands but his head buried under the pillow. His eyes were watery and red, his face was flushed from fever, and his lips were dry and flaking in some places. John hadn’t even complained about Derek being there when he left because Stiles was so sick John told Stiles he didn’t ‘have to worry about you two running off and getting into trouble’ since Stiles could barely sit up for too long without his head hurting. 

Derek thought John was probably being a little cruel with his jokes, but Stiles smiled at his dad so Derek figured teasing must be one of their things. Stiles wasn’t contagious and even if he was it was unlikely Derek would get his flu. Werewolves were pretty strong in immunity to most diseases and bacteria, so he wasn’t worried.

When the bell rang again Stiles made a whimper that actually hurt Derek’s heart a little. “Please make it stop, Derek,” he pleaded softly and Derek stood up quickly. If it hurt Stiles’s head that much when the bell rang, he didn’t want to risk whoever was there ringing it again. He got to the door quickly and opened it, reaching out to grab Lydia’s hand when she was inches from pressing the bell again. 

“Don’t,” he said sternly. She just raised an eyebrow and he let go of her hand. “What do you want?”

Lydia shoved past him, looking unimpressed. “Well, well, well, you’re the last person I expected to see here,” she said, going upstairs. “Stiiiiles,” she sing-songed. “Did you know you have a werewolf in your house?” she asked as she went into his room with Derek behind her.

Stiles sat up and smiled weakly. “Hey Lydia,” he said, shifting to sit against his pillows. He saw the bag she had and groaned. “Don’t tell me they sent my work home.”

“Yep!” she said brightly, dropping it beside his bed. She hopped onto the bed beside Stiles, on top of the covers. “You look like crap,” she said and he snorted.

“Gee, thanks Lydia, you make me feel so great about myself.” He coughed weakly. “I hope you had a flu shot because you’re going down if not.”

Lydia shrugged. “I don’t get sick, I’m fine.” She pulled out a folder from the bag beside her and opened it on her lap. “So, since you’re really sick, I did you the favor of organizing the notes from AP US History by date and then doing your AP Physics homework for you,” she said, holding out a second folder from beneath the first. “Your AP English essay and all your non-AP classes are all on you though.”

Stiles looked up at her in awe. “Lydia Martin, you are the most amazing friend I’ve ever had even if you ignored my existence for the first seven years I was in love with you.”

She smirked. “I know I’m amazing, everybody tells me,” she said and Derek huffed out a small laugh from the desk. “Oh what, the mighty alpha thinks something else?” she asked, but Derek didn’t respond. “What’s he doing here anyway?” she asked.

Stiles groaned, laying his head on her shoulder. “He thinks he saw a gnome. I think he was on the good wolfs bane and hallucinated.”

“Shut up, Stiles, it was a gnome,” Derek argued.

Lydia hummed. “So he’s researching here? Why not do his own research?”

Stiles snorted. “Can you picture Derek Hale at the library?” he joked. “Eh I don’t mind, I usually research for the pack. I’m too sick so he’s using my sources.”

Lydia nodded. “Didn’t you have an appointment with your therapist today?” she asked. “I thought it was Tuesday and Thursday?”

Stiles huffed. “Good thing I’m sick then, huh?” he asked and Lydia raised an eyebrow. “Dude, I _hate_ therapy,” he stressed. “Derek and I talked about it after the first few times, but basically I can’t tell her the truth so it’s not helping. And I don’t want to talk to this stranger about personal shit anyways. I’ve opened up to Scott more than I have her. Hell I opened up more to the person who took my statement about my attack than her. I just- I cannot trust that woman. She’s just a stranger and last time I feel like she was judging me.”

Lydia raised an eyebrow. “You realize they’re paid basically for you to talk to, right? That’s the whole point really.”

Stiles shrugged. “Then why does it feel like when I finally answer something on topic and she runs with it, she’s silently judging me? Even if she’s not, shouldn’t she have an aura of comfort and trustworthiness?” he asked pointedly. “I’m like… ninety percent sure she was covering a smirk with her freaking clip board when she asked about my sex life and I told her I didn’t have one, seeing as the most action I’ve ever got aside from nearly being raped was making out with a girl who got _murdered_ later.” He waved a hand weakly. “Who the hell _smirks_ at that?!”

Lydia shrugged. “You’re a funny guy, maybe you said it in a way that was comical and she was trying not to laugh?”

“Yeah, well, then she asked prying shit about ‘Stiles time’ and whoa, no, just… I’m not talking to some stranger about what is absolutely nobody’s business but mine,” he said pointedly, coughing a little.

Lydia looked amused. “Your therapist was probably asking about your sex life and ‘Stiles time’ to see how serious your intimacy issues are after being attacked. It’s not that out of the realm of normality, Stiles.”

He looked away from Lydia, looking at the folders across their laps. “Yeah well, she’s a stranger to me still. And even if she wasn’t, my intimacy issues are mine to deal with. I was nearly _raped_ less than three months ago, I don’t _want_ to talk about it. Maybe talking about it with a stranger is good and therapeutic for some people but it’s not for me. It’s just annoying.”

Lydia shrugged. “I never responded well to therapy either, so I can’t say much.” She frowned. “What kind of intimacy issues are you dealing with, Stiles?” she asked softly.

He shot her a look. “What makes you think I am going to talk to you about them either?”

She smirked. “I used to star in your fantasies didn’t I? I think I probably have more right to ask than anybody else.”

Derek made a sound from the desk. “Please, no more, I can hear you, whispers or not, so just… no.” They ignored him.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean ‘used to’?”

She gave him a sympathetic look and patted his hand. “Stiles we all know you finally worked out that you’re gay. I’m just not what does it for you anymore.”

Stiles spluttered. “What?! Why do you think I’m gay-“

“You dated a guy,” she pointed out.

“And that makes me gay?!”

“No, that would make you possibly bisexual, but the fact you hadn’t looked at a girl in at least three months before and stared awfully hard at Danny says you figured yourself out,” she said and Stiles pouted.

“I’m totally bisexual. I just got over you. I like girls. Girls are great. They just… you know, don’t have muscles like boys do,” he said awkwardly.

She patted his hand. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault Danny doesn’t like you back. Danny’s the pickiest bitch I’ve ever met.”

Stiles whined, sliding down against her. “It’s not just him! Guys DO NOT find me attractive! I mean, it’s not so bad now, I admit to intimacy issues that aren’t going to change anytime soon, but before, when I still wasn’t even sure I liked guys, Scott and I ended up in Jungle one night tracking somebody and two seconds at the bar and someone bought Scott a drink! Two seconds! I mean, I get people at school not liking me because they see how I act, but how the hell is it that SCOTT gets hit on by a gay guy in two seconds at a gay bar and I’m the one that’s actually interested in other dudes?!”

Lydia hummed. “Well, you’re kinda skinny-“

“But I’m _not_!” he argued, voice growing hoarse. “I play lacrosse. I run cross country. I’m not bulky like Danny but I’m lean muscle.” He frowned. “I’m cute!” he said, then frowned. “Well, at least I think so. I know I’m far from a Greek god but I’ve got decent cheekbones and long eyelashes.”

Lydia smiled. “You’re cute, Stiles, don’t get me wrong, you’re just… quirky friend material. You scream ‘let’s hang out and do something fun’ not ‘hey wanna fuck?’”

Stiles flinched slightly. “Well maybe that’s a good thing because I really, really don’t,” he said softly.

Lydia grabbed his hand. “Hey, I’m sorry,” she said, looking worried. “You okay?” He nodded and she smiled sadly. “No joke when you say intimacy issues, huh?” 

Stiles bit his lip, looking up at her. “Can I tell you something and you not use it against me?” he asked and she nodded. “I’m actually pretty sure if Channing Tatum popped out of my closet naked and invited me to a threesome with him and Antonio Banderas I couldn’t make myself want to have sex,” he admitted softly, eyes filled with worry. “And that really freaks me out because pretty much for the last two years or so, wanting to have sex with someone has been pretty high on the list of priorities behind ‘eat’, ‘look out for Scott and my dad’, and more recently, ‘don’t die’.” He closed his eyes. “I’m mostly okay as far as ‘traumatized’ goes, but I just- I don’t know how to want sex and even if I can get back to being a horny teenage boy again, I’m not sure I could sleep with anybody without extreme levels of trust, which kind of ruins any chances there because I can’t be honest with people. So maybe it’s better that I can’t think about sex without thinking about Gale Andrews touching me, and that I don’t even fantasize in the shower anymore as much as just get it out of the way.”

Lydia hummed. “Have you tried porn? Because then you have to focus on what’s on the screen, not ‘fantasize’ and let your own thoughts into your head.”

Stiles shook his head. “I’m pretty sure porn would really make my intimacy issues worse. Do you know how hard it would be to not come across anything that reminded me of what happened? Even if it was really hot, I’d almost certainly see an ad for bondage or some shit on the side and think about having my wrists tied.”

Lydia smirked. “I could send you links? Hey, have you ever see the one with the triple penetration? It’s really hot and there’s nothing even slightly bondage for it,” she said and Stiles looked up, jaw dropping.

“Wait, what?! Was it like a ‘all three holes on a chick’ or-“

“No, you’re into dudes so I just thought of the one with one guy and three dicks up his-“

“That cannot be possible,” Derek said in alarm, actually turned around from the desk with a horrified look on his face. “No way in hell.”

Stiles nodded. “Seriously, I don’t think I believe you,” he said to Lydia, who laughed.

“Oh come on, everybody’s come across porn with thicker objects in an orifice than a few penises,” she said and Derek made a face.

“I really, really haven’t and I’m really wishing you would go away. I don’t want to think about anything I’ve overheard since you got here,” he said.

Stiles cringed. “Sorry, you were quiet and I kind of forgot-“

“No, don’t apologize, talking to Lydia obviously is better for you than not talking to your therapist, I just really wish I could un-hear things,” he said, shuddering.

Stiles chuckled. “Sorry, Lydia, but he’s right. Besides, I don’t think I can talk about this anymore. I may have intimacy issues, but pushing at the walls probably won’t help me, you know?”

She nodded. “I get that.” She shocked Stiles by kissing his cheek. “You get better, okay?” she asked as she slid out of the bed. “English is boring without you to annoy the teacher,” she said and Stiles smiled, settling down against the pillows to watch as she gathered her things and got ready to go.

“I miss pissing her off, too,” he said, only to whimper when he moved his head. “Fuck, sitting up was a bad idea.”

Derek stood up. “Here, I’ll lock up behind you so he can stay in bed,” Derek said, and Lydia smirked at him when he followed her out of the room.

“You know, if I didn’t know better,” Lydia started, walking ahead of Derek. “I’d think you were being all territorial,” she said, turning around to face him, stopping at the door. “Why don’t you want me around Stiles?”

He made an uncomfortable face. “Nothing you’re thinking. He’s just sick. I’m his alpha, he’s weak, I need to keep him safe. It’s how packs work.”

She gave him a knowing look. “It’s also how Isaac is with Scott sometimes,” she said, turning to open the door. “I’m just saying!”

Derek frowned. “Isaac? What? What do you mean how he is with Scott? And why?” he asked, looking very confused.

Lydia just sighed, shaking her head as she walked past him. “You poor clueless alpha,” she said, patting his head lightly.

Derek glowered as she walked away down the steps. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!” he called after her, but she didn’t bother reacting. He shut the door and locked it. He went back upstairs and paused when he saw Stiles curled up with his pillow over his head, hands shaking slightly on top of it. He hesitated, and then shook his head, walking around the bed. 

“Stiles?” he asked, looking down at him. “Stiles, are you okay? Do you need something? This can’t be normal.”

Stiles chuckled weakly, voice muffled. “Influenza kills millions of people every year. It’s hell.”

Derek sighed. “Yeah, and I don’t want it to kill you. Is this okay? I mean, for non-deadly versions. You’re not that sick, right?”

Stiles pulled the pillow off his face weakly and smiled up at Derek, eyes glassy. “If I was dying, you would smell it.”

“If you were actively dying, yeah, but I don’t know when someone is on the way to getting that sick. You may not be dying NOW but if you keep going you could get that sick.” He reached out and touched his face. “I don’t know what humans are supposed to feel like but this probably is too warm.”

Stiles coughed. “Of course it is. I’m sick.” He leaned into Derek’s hand. “Waaaarrmmm,” he cooed.

Derek chuckled. “Do you need medicine?”

Stiles shook his head. “I took pain killers not long ago. For the fever and pain. It just isn’t working anymore.”

Derek nodded. “Do you need more?”

“I wish, but you can’t take too much or it’ll mess up your stomach. Last thing we need is me barfing on top of all of this.” He rolled onto his other side, tugging for the covers that had fallen off. “I’m cold. Come back,” he mumbled. Derek watched him tugging weakly and reached over him, pulling the covers back up over Stiles’s body. “Thanks,” Stiles coughed out, body heaving as he tried to breathe easier. Derek looked over at the research, but then back at Stiles. He went to get the laptop and then came back. He kicked off his shoes and sat on the bed beside Stiles. Stiles frowned, looking back at him. “What’re you doin?” Stiles asked weakly.

Derek chuckled, settling back against the headboard before putting the laptop in his lap. “Come here,” he said, tugging until Stiles curled towards Derek, laying his cheek against Derek’s hip. Derek slid his hand up the back of Stiles’s shirt and Stiles made a questioning sound, only to groan and relax when he felt some of the pain in his muscles draining away. “Oh hey that werewolfy pain drain thing. Yay,” he sighed, tilting his head to look up at Derek without lifting his head. “You’re kind of awesome for doing this.”

Derek shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re sick. I’ll heal.”

Stiles frowned. “Wait, the pain thing is a transfer, not a fix?”

Derek nodded, using his left hand to scroll down the page he was on. “It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt me. It’s just a little tingly in my hand and wrist and a tightness in my chest. Like when you’re overwhelmed by something emotionally.”

Stiles hummed, nuzzling his side as he got comfortable. “Yep, Scott and Isaac both cried the first time they did it for animals.” Stiles closed his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.” Derek hummed and Stiles nodded sleepily. “I don’t like being alone in the house. Having somebody here makes me feel safe.” He smiled tiredly. “You make me feel safe, Derek.”

Derek couldn’t help but smile as he glanced down just in time to see Stiles’s eyes slipping shut before his breathing evened out. 

~

Derek wasn’t sure what woke him from possibly the best sleep he had had in years until he heard a muttered, ‘ah hell’ from the door. His eyes opened and he lifted his head, blinking blearily as his eyes focused on the Sheriff standing in the doorway with an unhappy look on his face. Derek blinked a few times and tried to sit up, only to be hindered by the weight on his chest. He looked down and then froze. Stiles’s laptop was closed down by his and Stiles feet and Stiles was laying pretty much across his chest, his head face hidden in Derek’s shirt. His eyes snapped back up to the Sheriff, and he knew the flustered expression must’ve been obvious because John chuckled and shook his head, turning to walk away.

Derek quickly disentangled himself from Stiles, who just grumbled as Derek replaced himself with a pillow, and then rushed to the door. “John,” he called softly, pulling the door shut behind him. “Look, whatever you think-“

John cut him off with a hand raised. He looked back at Derek from the stairs and shook his head, mouth in a firm line. “If you hurt him, I don’t care what I have to use, I’ll find a way to kill you,” he said simply.

Derek frowned. “I’m his alpha and his friend, why would I-“

“I mean emotionally, Derek,” John said, giving him a pointed look.

Derek flushed and shook his head. “It’s not like that. Stiles is- he’s seventeen. I would never- and even then, what happened was too recent- Stiles wouldn’t be able to handle anything with anybody. And I’m not- no. Just no. I’m nearly twenty-three years old, I’m not stupid.”

John nodded. “Good, remember that. He’s seventeen, you’re nearly twenty-three, and I’m the sheriff.” He rubbed at his eyes. “So just to clarify, you’re not doing anything illegal with my underage kid, right?” he asked and Derek shook his head. “Then what’s with all the… touching stuff?” he asked. “I’ve noticed the handholding and touching arms and shoulders but didn’t think much of it. Then that just now... what’s up?” he asked.

Derek nodded downstairs. “Want to talk so we won’t wake him up?” he asked, and John nodded, leading the way to the kitchen.

“Coffee?” he asked, and Derek nodded and muttered a small ‘thanks’ when John started the coffee maker. “So explain for me the reason behind a grown man curling up in my underage child’s bed. Is it some werewolf thing?” he asked suspiciously.

Derek actually smiled. “So Stiles gets stubbornness from you, huh?” he asked and the Sheriff chuckled in amusement. “It’s a werewolf thing. Scott’s kind of started doing it but the others are still too human for it to not feel ‘weird’, but it’s an instinct they all have,” he explained. 

“The instinct to _snuggle_?” John asked and Derek shook his head.

“Touching. Werewolves are kind of like cats. You identify pack through scent. Cats that live together rub against each other and curl up together because that way they mark each other with scent. If a strange cat comes around the scent is off so they know it’s a potential danger. Obviously, we’re people so we know each other without scent, but packs feel more comfortable when you smell like each other. And the way you do that is through touch. So with a family, like when I was little, it wasn’t weird at all for me and my brother and sisters to all lay on the floor in a pile in front of the TV just curled up together, sort of,” he explained, looking down when he mentioned his siblings. “And like, instead of getting to the age where it’s weird to hug your mom, it was never weird. I don’t think there was a day I didn’t walk up to my mom and just slide my arms around her while she was cooking dinner and stand there to talk. It was just… normal. Contact. Touch. Obviously, it would look pretty creepy if I walked around hugging a bunch of teenagers, but when we’re not in public Stiles will hold my hand or just touch my arm, just simple touch and scent transfer. Scott’s started doing it since Stiles- since that night. Scott kind of remembered there are other threats outside of the supernatural for Stiles, since he’s not a predator like us, and he’s taken to kind of instinctively scent marking him.”

John snorted disbelievingly. “Scent marking, how is this my life?” he asked, sitting down with both cups of coffee. “So instinctive scent marking.”

Derek shrugged. “It’s just instinct. I was born like this, John. I don’t know what it’s like to not be a werewolf. Scott is giving in to the urge faster because Stiles has been his best friend for basically their whole lives. I’m pretty sure Scott touches Stiles more than anybody else already. Now he just hugs him and stuff with the intent to have a scent exchange. Stiles was the first to work it out about me, though. He’s a lot less afraid of looking stupid than the others.”

John sighed. “I just cannot believe you let my son get mixed up in all of this,” he said honestly.

Derek tensed but nodded. “I know. I didn’t mean to. He and Scott came as a packaged deal and I couldn’t stop him. But you should know, if Stiles hasn’t ever told you, that he has literally saved my life at least twice,” he said in a tight voice. “I don’t just mean ‘found out how to save me’, I mean your son once spent two hours treading water to hold me up because I was paralyzed from the neck down. He spent two hours in eight foot deep water holding me up even though he nearly drowned with me.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry he got involved but I can’t say I’d change that now.”

John looked surprised. “Jesus, he did that?” he asked almost in awe.

Derek nodded. “Even when we started going under, when he was being dragged under with me, he didn’t let me go so he could save himself, he was going to go down with me if he couldn’t get me back to the surface.” He shook his head. “I don’t doubt for a second that nobody else would have ever did that for me. The others, they’re better at it now, but for most of the last year and a half, they were in it for themselves. Stiles never had to be in it at all, apart from helping Scott. But Stiles saved me from a gunshot wound once and not long after kept me out of the water that night and both times he didn’t even trust me, he just did it because he couldn’t let someone die without helping them.” Derek sipped his coffee. “So yeah, I wouldn’t expect anything besides you being upset Stiles is mixed up in werewolves, but you should be proud of how much better it is that it was this and not drugs or a gang or whatever you were thinking with his lies.”

John smiled sadly, looking down at his mug. “Apart from the part of me that wishes he was safer and not a target for supernatural beings, I can’t deny that I was… relieved,” he said softly. “The lies were terrible. I always thought Stiles was the best kid, you know? I had gotten so lucky because my son was smart, he had good grades, he wasn’t a bad kid, he didn’t do anything worse than dumb things all boys do like setting things on fire to see what happened in the back yard.” He looked up. “And then the lies just… started. And they piled up. He’d hide things and keep secrets. Stiles never did that. Then when you entered the picture and I realized ‘holy shit my teenager is mixed up with a criminal’ I was so sure I was losing my child,” he admitted. “So I hate it, Derek, I hate all of this, but you’re right.” He looked up with a sad sort of pride in his eyes as he smiled. “Knowing my kid - _my_ Stiles – is still there is a relief. I hate the danger, but I’d rather my child be saving someone’s life than doing something that endangers lives.”

Derek snorted suddenly. “Your kid yells at me for driving off before I put on my seatbelt, trust me, he’s not endangering any lives,” he said and John grinned.

“Son, why do you care so much?” he asked, looking at Derek intently. “From the first night you showed up, you’ve done your best to convince me that Stiles isn’t a bad kid and did everything you could to convince me he didn’t want to lie. Why does it matter so much?”

Derek’s breath caught and he looked away. “Because his lies were to protect you. You’re all he has. When I met him, he was the same age I was when I lost my parents. I understood his lying because he couldn’t lose you.” Derek coughed weakly, clearing his throat. “There isn’t a day goes by I don’t wish I could have my dad back so I don’t want distrust and suspicion to make him lose his.” Derek hunkered down some, then stood up. “I’m gonna go check on Stiles,” he said quickly, voice hoarse as he hurried out of the room.

But John saw the pain in his eyes before he left. John took a drink of his coffee and thought about how he always forgot just how young the young man who Stiles had gotten mixed up in really was. It was hard to remember that when he was Derek’s age, John didn’t have a care in the world. He was in college, he had only just met his late wife, he didn’t worry about anything but school work and whether or not his car would run on Friday night so he could drive them for their date. Instead of normal things, Derek Hale was in charge of a group of werewolf teenage misfits fighting monsters (both human and mythological) to keep them all alive. 

It really hit home to think about Stiles without anybody or anything. Sure, Stiles had suffered a lot at a young age when he lost his mother, and he didn’t have any other close family, but the thought of Stiles in Derek Hale’s situation was enough to make him remember Derek Hale was still basically a child himself. 

Derek had just been forced to grow up the hard way.

~

Derek spent the night since it was late when John had woke him up, so he was there in the morning when, just before dawn, there was a terrible scream from upstairs. Derek was awake and upstairs before John even got out of bed. Stiles was screaming a way Derek had only heard once, the night he was attacked. Derek threw open Stiles’s bedroom door just in time for the screams to form words. “NO! STOP IT! PLEASE DON’T!” Stiles was screaming from his spot curled up on the floor, tangled in his sheets as he kicked and fought to get free.

“Stiles!” Derek rushed over. “Stiles, STILES! It’s a dream, it’s just a dream!” He couldn’t untangle the sheets and Stiles kept screaming so, in his desperation, Derek dug his claws in and ripped the sheets until Stiles’s arms and legs were free. “Shhhhh Stiles, wake up, okay?” He shook him until Stiles suddenly snapped awake, eyes wide.

“D-Derek? I- am I-“ Stiles looked around. “A dream?”

Derek nodded, swallowing hard when Stiles collapsed, sobbing openly. “Shhh, it’s okay.” Derek pulled Stiles into his arms, holding him against his chest. “Just breathe, shhhh it’s okay.”

“Stiles?!” Derek looked up as John stumbled in, looking fearful. “Derek, what-“  
“Nightmare,” Derek said simply, rocking Stiles as he cried. “It’s alright, Stiles. You’re okay.”

Stiles just whimpered. “I don’t want to be a werewolf just so he can hurt me more, don’t let him keep me, Derek.”

Derek frowned. “What?” He pulled back some “Who were you dreaming about?”

Stiles looked up. “Greenberg, obviously. Gale was going to make him bite me so he could rape me over and over and nothing would kill me and he was going to keep me as a sex slave, but the rainbows weren’t clicking so I screamed for you but you couldn’t see through the window.”

Derek looked up at John, who paled. “What’s he talking about?”

“Shit, get him up,” John said, turning to run from the doorway without another word.

“John?! JOHN?!” Derek called, but then looked back at Stiles who was, alarmingly, smiling suddenly. “Stiles? Stiles, what’s going on?”

Stiles raised a shaky hand and poked Derek in the chest, then giggled. “Mountain lion.”

Derek stood up, picking Stiles up too. He slid a hand up his shirt to feel of his back only to wince when he felt how warm he was. His shirt was damp with sweat, he was so warm. “Jesus, Stiles, are you okay?” he asked, catching him when he let go and Stiles crumpled. “JOHN? Why is he like this?!”

John came back and Derek was shocked to see him fully dressed. “Let me help him downstairs while you pull on your shoes, I need you to help me get him to the hospital.”

Derek jumped. “ _Hospital_?! What is going on with him?” he asked, running over to pull on his shoes then shrug on his jacket. By the time he caught up with John, John was trying to convince Stiles to take the stairs. “Here.” He scooped Stiles up, ignoring the scream Stiles let out right in his ear. “Tell me what’s going on!”

John rushed downstairs ahead of them. “When Stiles was little, one time he got a fever so high he had to be put in _ice_ ,” he explained. “He started talking crazy. He was talking out of his head about fish and his grandpa and a submarine. If he’s rambling about stuff now, even if he had a legitimate nightmare, he’s way too feverish.”

Derek carried him to the car and slid into the backseat, pulling Stiles into his lap with him. “That happens? Humans, you can get a fever so bad you start talking out of your head?”

“Derek, fevers kill humans. Dehydration mostly, but if your fever gets too high, it causes brain damage. That was the reason for the ice,” he said and Derek just stared down at Stiles, who seemed enraptured with Derek’s zipper.

“But… he was okay yesterday. Sick, but not- nothing like-“ Derek pulled him closer. “Will he be okay?” he asked and John just drove without replying. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

“I hope so,” John said gravely.

~

By the time they got to the hospital, Stiles was talking again. Derek hoped anything he said around the hospital staff would be mistaken for ramblings of a feverish patient. “Derek! Derek do you have puppies?!” he asked, eyes wide as he looked up at Derek as Derek carried him in after his father, not caring how it looked. “Werewolves, if you and a lady werewolf made puppies, would you have a litter of puppies or a baby?” he asked and Derek scowled.

“Werewolves don’t have _litters_. We do turn into pups when we’re younger, but not near birth.”

Stiles hummed, seeming interested. “Derek, can _you_ have a puppy?! Do boy werewolves have puppies? OH GOD DEREK ARE YOU PREGNANT?!” he shouted, catching the attention of several people.

Derek glared when John laughed. “Stiles, boys don’t get pregnant, remember?” John said gently, though his smile didn’t hide the worry in his face. John looked up. “Let me talk to the lady, okay, Son? Derek’s got you.”

Derek nodded, holding Stiles as John spoke to the woman at the desk. She immediately called someone over and Derek turned to the man pushing a wheelchair over. “Stiles, I’ve got to let this guy take over for me, okay?” He lowered Stiles into the chair and Stiles frowned.

“Derek? Derek, no! Don’t let the snow man have my lunch money!” he argued, holding out his hands. “The rice crispies are under the floor!”

Derek took his hand and squeezed it. “Don’t worry, you’ll be okay,” he said, and Stiles shot him a panicked look when they wheeled him around. “Just calm down,” Derek called, but Stiles let out a loud cry.

“But he’ll get me without Derek! Derek has to save me!” he choked out and Derek looked at John, who nodded, clapping a hand on Derek’s shoulder before following.

“Hey, I’m the sheriff, I think it’ll be best if I stay with my son,” John said to the doctor who was walking to meet them as they wheeled Stiles away. 

Derek relaxed some when Stiles seemed okay as long as his dad was with him, then went to sit down heavily in the waiting area.

~

It was midmorning before John came looking for Derek. Derek had already been brought coffee and a bagel by Melissa McCall, who was keeping tabs on Stiles since the others had to go to school. She seemed just as worried as he was so, when John came out, Melissa rushed over. “How is he?” she asked before Derek even could. 

John sighed. “He’s going to be fine. His fever got too high is all. It’s just the flu, nothing worse, I guess he just got it really hard since he’s been stressed too much.”

Melissa looked worried. “What’s going on with him? Scott won’t talk, but for a while there, every time he got home from seeing Stiles he locked himself in his room and I didn’t hear anything. No music, TV, nothing. 

Derek was surprised she didn’t know. He knew from Stiles that she knew he had been the one who attacked Gale Andrews and that he’d been convicted of sexually assaulting another kid. He also figured Scott would’ve talked to her about it. John clearly seemed under the same impression, because he spoke honestly. “Look Melissa… I guess Scott hadn’t wanted to talk about it, since Stiles didn’t want people to know, but you’re like a parent to him so you need to know what to look out for,” he said, looking at her worriedly. “Stiles was… attacked. A few months ago.”

Melissa gasped. “Jesus, is he- did he get turned?” she asked Derek, who cringed.

“Not like that.”

She frowned and turned to John, who took a deep breath. “He- Jesus, it’s hard to say it-“

Derek spoke before the Sheriff upset himself more. “Gale Andrews. The boy I beat the hell out of that got convicted of sexually assaulting another kid,” he said simply and Melissa slapped a hand over her mouth, tears filling her eyes.

“ _Stiles_?!” she breathed, then looked at John, who nodded. “Oh God, that poor baby,” she whimpered. “Jesus, _Derek_!” She hugged him suddenly, startling him. “Oh my God, sweetheart, you were there?”

He nodded, awkwardly patting at her shoulder. “I was running with the others and heard a scream and when I found the car and interrupted, I realized it was Stiles and… well you saw the bastard.”

Melissa nodded. “I knew you did it, I heard them talking, but God. Finding your friend being attacked must’ve been terrible.”

Derek shrugged. “Not nearly as terrible as it was for Stiles. Don’t worry about me.”

Melissa groaned. “Oh no, John, was he having flashbacks from the fever?” she asked sympathetically. “God, my poor Stiles. Is he okay now? No more bad hallucinations?”

John nodded. “He’s sleeping soundly now. I’m glad Derek was staying the night tonight. I’m getting on up there, I could’ve never carried him that far. He’s a skinny kid but he’s tall and I’m not as young as I was.”

Melissa nodded. “Well, keep me posted, okay? Scott’s texting me about every ten minutes. Poor kid, I understand so much more about Scott’s behavior lately.” She smiled sadly. “He doesn’t know how to handle Stiles not being okay, you know? Stiles always saves the day or at least breaks the tension, having Stiles hurt is worse than being hurt himself for Scott.” She rubbed Derek’s shoulders. “Don’t worry too hard, okay? Stiles will be okay. I know how you guys are about your human friend. You guys all look out for Stiles, I know, but you can’t fight off the flu.” She kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry for how much this has to be freaking you out, Kid,” she said, then patted John’s shoulder on the way past. “He’ll be fine, John.”

John sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I know.” Derek looked uncomfortable and John chuckled. “C’mon, you’ve talked to her before, right?”

Derek shrugged. “Never… like with the touching and hugging and… and forehead kissing,” he said, looking perturbed. 

John smiled sadly. “She’s a mom, Derek, what do you expect?”

“I’m not a little kid. I’m not even a kid like her kid,” Derek pointed out.

John shrugged. “You’re twenty years younger than her, what else would she see you as? I gotta admit, the more you hang around, Derek, the more I’m reminded that you’re still pretty much a child. Maybe not legally, and maybe you had to grow up fast, but you’re twenty-two. You’re just a kid. You’re a kid and she’s a mom and she’s hardwired to worry about you just because right now, you look it.” Derek looked up in surprise and John nodded. “You look like a scared kid. You don’t have experience with any of this so I don’t blame you.”

Derek sighed heavily, letting go of the fight left in him. “Humans are so freaking fragile and it messes with me because he’s _Stiles_! Sure, I know he’s a squishy bag of breakable bones but he didn’t get injured, his own body is doing this to him. Sure, werewolves get sick, but not like _this_.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Humans and illnesses just freak me out a little.”

John smiled. “It’s okay, Derek. Stiles is fine. You can go if you want. Hospitals and illness go together.”

Derek waited anyhow, even after the Sheriff went back to sit with Stiles.

~

It was afternoon before Derek got to go see Stiles. He was underprepared for how hard the sight of Stiles with an IV in his hand would hit him. It was a reminder that Stiles was so much more fragile than the rest. No matter what, he couldn’t save Stiles from everything. “Hey,” he said as he walked over, sitting down beside Stiles, across from John on the other side. “How are you?”

Stiles made a face. “Derek, please tell me you carrying me like a princess was the most embarrassing thing that happened today,” he pleaded and Derek chuckled, smirking.

“Well, you asked me quite loudly in front of all the ER nurses and waiting room if I was pregnant, sooo…” Stiles groaned, putting his face in his hands.

“Oh God, I did?”

John chuckled. “You asked him if werewolves had babies or litters of puppies and then you asked if male werewolves could have babies and then asked if Derek was going to have puppies one day and finished it with a shrill cry of ‘Derek are you pregnant?!’. It was beautiful,” John teased.

Stiles whimpered, pulling the sheets up over his head. “Kill me. Just let me die. Oh God don’t tell me Mrs. McCall heard-“

“Nah, but I told her later,” John said, then reached out to pull the sheets down. “Don’t be embarrassed, you were really sick.”

Stiles looked over at Derek and Derek smiled at him, eyes lingering on the dark circles around his eyes and the way his cheeks seemed sunken in. “I promise I don’t really think you are having puppies,” he said seriously and Derek just grinned.

“Well I doubt you really think a snow man is going to take your lunch money either, so it’s okay.” He reached out and paused. “You should probably explain the pain thing to your dad before I reach under the sheets in front of him,” he said and John looked slightly horrified at the implication.

Stiles snickered. “Hey, it’s just good bedside manner to keep a patient fully satisfied-“

“Stiles,” Derek chastised and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“It’s a thing werewolves do. They can take away your pain. It’s like a transference. It doesn’t hurt them as much as just an emotional and tingly thing,” he explained, then held up the covers and pulled the tee-shirt he was wearing up, exposing his skin. 

Derek reached out and slid his hand under Stiles’s shirt, watching his face as Stiles eyes slid shut and he sighed in relief as the aching in his bones left him so that he was just tired and sniffly, not pained. When Stiles was fully relaxed, Derek removed his hand and tucked Stiles in again. “You’re not warm anymore, so that’s good.”

Stiles nodded, blinking sleepily. “Yeah, the good meds do that.” 

John just looked between them. “Huh, that’s a pretty handy thing,” he said and Derek nodded.

“Scott and Isaac do it at the clinic for dogs that are sick. It’s a little rougher on them because they’re betas and because the animals they usually do it on are the ones who are terminal.” He shook his head. “I’ve never did it on someone or something that’s dying so I can’t tell how that feels.”

“They cry,” Stiles clarified to his dad. “A lot really. Which is weird because Scott doesn’t cry. Now me? You know how I am, I never cry at all. Ever.”

John snickered. “You mean the way you absolutely _never_ cry watching Disney movies?”

Stiles pointed at him. “That crap is evil and whoever says Disney movies are for little kids are wrong. I dare anybody in the freaking world to watch Toy Story three and not bawl. You would cry, Dad. DEREK would cry!”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Stiles, do I look like I cry? Ever?”

Stiles hummed. “Manly tears of joy when your team wins the Stanley cup?” he asked and Derek shot him a look. “Jesus, fine, okay, Stiles is a sensitive little flower, bite me,” he grumbled. “But yeah, Scott doesn’t cry and he cried then. Actually I think he cried over Allison, but she’s like heroin or some crap. Swear to God, Scott is pathetic about that girl.”

Derek smiled in amusement, sharing a look with John, who just rolled his eyes. “Someone’s definitely feeling better,” John said and Derek nodded. 

“Yep. You know a rambling Stiles is the normal one,” he said, casually sliding his hand into Stiles’s on the mattress. “I should probably go call the pack,” Derek said, standing up, hand still laced with Stiles’s for a moment. “They’re all really worried.”

Stiles smirked. “See? Yeah, I told you, I’m their favorite. They all just lie and pretend I’m insignificant. I’m totally head of Team Human and they all love me and think I’m the coolest and want my body,” he said and Derek made a face.

“I really, really did not need to imagine Boyd wanting your anything, Stiles. Thanks, I’ve got to go drown myself,” he joked, then squeezed Stiles’s hand before walking away.

John just smiled at Stiles, the lines around his eyes deeper than usual. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” he said and Stiles yawned.

“I’m fine, Dad. I’m just a little sick is all.”

John nodded. “You know, I’m glad Derek was there last night, buddy. I’d have never got you here that fast without help. He really cares about you and I’m glad you’ve got a friend like that,” he admitted, looking annoyed at himself. “Don’t tell him I like him that much, though. I still hate him for getting you in trouble.”

Stiles smiled and shrugged. “He’s the alpha, it’s his job to take care of his pack.”

John nodded. “He does his best when it comes to you and that’s all I’m really worried about.”

~

After seeing how the werewolves all reacted to Stiles being so ill, and after talking with Melissa about them all, John started to relax and get used to the boys showing up at his house more. He finally met Isaac and Boyd as part of Derek’s pack and was pleased with how polite they were. They all seemed like pretty good kids. Allison Argent, Scott’s ex-girlfriend started to join them sometimes, though by winter break, she started to be around all the time with Lydia when she came over. 

He also met Derek’s uncle, Peter Hale, when he went over with Stiles to the usual thanksgiving dinner at Scott and Melissa’s house that he and Stiles had started joining them with after Scott’s father had left and they stopped going to see family for thanksgiving. He was less than enthused with Peter Hale. It had been a little awkward when Melissa remembered him as the man who tricked her into going out with him so he could threaten Scott with her wellbeing back when he was still out of his mind a little.

“I do apologize. I was really out of it back then. I’m much saner now,” he said in a convincingly smooth tone.

Stiles, however, popped up behind Melissa and gave him a _too_ bright smile. “Yep, besides, kidnapping teenage boys and being super pedophilic was more your thing then anyhow, right?” And oh boy had that started one hell of a discussion. Derek had reassured them that Peter seemed to be on the up and up now so they let it go, but John could tell nobody besides Derek was really unafraid of the man. Stiles in particular seemed to stick close to Derek all night.

It was later, when Stiles, Isaac, and Scott had retreated to play video games and Derek and Peter had left that John, who was helping Melissa with the dishes, turned the conversation to Derek. “Do you know where he lives? I keep asking, but he avoids and Stiles just says ‘around’.”

Melissa shook her head. “Scott makes it sound like he lives in an abandoned warehouse or something. I saw him taking clothes out of his car so I’m guessing he’s well and truly homeless.” She lowered her voice. “I’m not sure why the boy doesn’t get a job and a house.”

John hummed. “He seems pretty tied up with all those kids. You know the Lahey kid practically lives with him? I think between you and Boyd’s family, Isaac sleeps with friends but Derek is the one he lives with mostly.” He shook his head, wiping off a dish. “I don’t get it. He has to have money, you know? I remember signing off for the insurance reports from the Hale fire. He and his sister were the only beneficiaries of a big home insurance pay out as well as eight life insurance policies.”

Melissa shrugged. “Well other than paying for Peter’s care, there’s no telling what all they got up to in the years they were gone.”

John chuckled. “That’s a lot of money. I knew Talia Hale. That family had some serious money even before all that. He should at least have enough left for a home.”

Melissa put down her towel and turned to him. “You know, maybe if we can help him find a job and find a cheap place, just an apartment for him and Isaac and maybe Peter, maybe we can help him get started? He’s just a kid, John, he may not know how to get started.”

John glanced into the living room and turned back. “If you can find some listings, I can talk to Stiles and try to work out what line of work Derek might be interested in. I have some sway, I could help him out in a lot of jobs. A lot of people in this town have some favor they owe me.”

Melissa smiled sadly. “Maybe all the kid needs is a helping hand to get him started in the right direction.” She nodded at the door. “Stiles is their researcher. Maybe he could help out? Scott told me he’s the one that generally covers Derek’s back when he needs it.”

John nodded. “Good idea.”

~

Stiles was a little suspicious when his father and Scott’s mom wanted to meet with him at a café with his laptop for lunch alone, but it was the first day of winter break so he went with it. “Alright, what’s up and why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re not in trouble, and neither is Scott,” Mrs. McCall started. “We just thought you could help us out.”

John nodded. “What do you know about real estate?” he asked.

Stiles waved a hand. “That the housing market in Beacon Hills is at rock bottom prices after the recession and now is the time to buy. Especially small homes and condos. Or warehouse space. Granted, the squatters might be an issue. Why?” he asked suspiciously. “Are you two kicking me and Scott out?” he asked suddenly.

John gave him a flat look. “You’re both seventeen. _No_.”

Melissa smiled. “Look, Stiles, we had an idea,” she said. “You know, the way we hear it, Derek’s homeless. And he takes care of Isaac, so Isaac is homeless too. We thought if we helped him find somewhere, maybe helped him get established, maybe he’d appreciate it.”

Stiles looked surprised. “Uh… well yeah, but he has money. He could’ve got a house anytime. He just hasn’t. I’m not sure why but-“

“And that’s why we thought maybe he just doesn’t know how,” John said. “He’s young. On his own really. Peter Hale doesn’t count, so Derek’s got no idea how to do things, does he?”

Stiles nodded. “True.” He pulled out his laptop. “So, we’re looking for potential Derek Dwellings? Nice. Maybe pack meetings won’t have to happen in our living room anymore,” he said and John chuckled.

“Well we’re looking for that and for a job for him. He has to pay his bills once he has them, you know?”

Stiles looked up suddenly. “Oh,” he said softly, a sad smile on his face. “Hey, Dad.” He looked at him. “You couldn’t possibly pull some strings, could you?”

John raised an eyebrow. “Depends what strings you want pulled. Is it about Derek?”

Stiles nodded, looking hopeful, eyes shining. “He was on a career path. In New York,” he explained. “He has a degree but he was training to do something else.”

Melissa blinked. “A degree? In what? How does he have a degree when he came back here at twenty-two after all that traumatic stuff?”

Stiles smiled, loving their surprise. “He got a GED and took the SATs and started college early. He has a degree in architecture.” He turned to his father. “So, do you know anybody at the fire department?”

John looked confused. “Where did that come from-“

“Derek,” Stiles said, voice going tight. “He- he was training to be a firefighter. He finished at the academy and was working at a station when he had to leave to come look for Laura.”

John and Melissa both shared a startled look. “Jesus,” John said, rubbing at his jaw. “After what happened, he wanted to be a firefighter?”

Stiles nodded, eyes shining a little. “He- he said he wanted to help keep what happened to his family from happening to more people. He knows there was nothing the firefighters could really do with the house that far out, but any lives saved would be worth him being a firefighter. And, you know, werewolves are faster, stronger, can heal from injuries so they can take the risks humans can’t… he was perfect for a fireman.”

Melissa nodded. “That poor boy,” she said, looking up. “I have a friend. Marcy. Her husband works at the fire department. I can get her to see if they’re looking to hire someone.”

John nodded. “Larry Watson, the fire chief, I know him. I can pull some strings, I’m pretty sure. As long as Derek finished his qualification and the fire station can send his records from New York, I’m pretty sure I can help him out.”

Stiles looked up with a bright smile. “Dude, you guys are basically the coolest people ever, you know this, right? Derek- Derek doesn’t get breaks like this. People don’t look past the leather jacket and serial killer accusations. Nobody ever tries to help him. This is easily the best thing anyone has ever done for him.”

John raised an eyebrow. “According to Derek you’ve literally, physically saved his life before, Son.”

Stiles froze, shocked at his father knowing that, and then blushed. “Yeah well, that’s different, I didn’t have any choice. I mean I had to help him, what kind of person wouldn’t?”

Melissa smiled. “Sweetie, that’s what this is. What kind of person would we be if we didn’t try to help him?”

Stiles snickered suddenly. “Your son could learn a lot from you, Mrs. McCall,” he joked, then pulled up a window. “Alright, you guys order us some grub, I’ll find everybody’s favorite alpha somewhere to hang his hat,” he said, getting started with the real estate searching.

~

Derek’s birthday passed quietly, though none of them knew it was his birthday until two days later when he mentioned he was twenty-three. He had hinted it was sometime at the end of the year, but he had never told them the exact date before. Christmas, however, was going to be a big affair that year. Derek was staying with Stiles and his father and Isaac was staying with Scott and his mom for Christmas Eve and then on Christmas morning, everybody congregated at the Stilinski house for a big lunch and presents. Most of them didn’t have the money to buy each other gifts, but Derek had given all of them (including the humans) coins with protection sigils carved into them that Deaton had helped him get his hands on. Mrs. McCall had given every one of them scarves and gloves, something everyone laughed about but secretly loved, and John had made everybody cookies.

Isaac, who was the only one of the teenagers with nobody else to get gifts from, was surprised when there was a box under the tree with his name on it. Stiles watched his dad and Scott’s mom to see if they had got it, but neither of them reacted. When he opened it, he gasped and looked up at Derek, who just smiled. “Derek, really, this is too much. I can’t even-“

“You have school to worry about and you can’t keep borrowing Scott’s,” Derek said, smiling softly when Isaac pushed the paper off and revealed to the rest of them a brand new laptop. “You need it. You can’t get crappy grades because your homework has to wait for Scott to not be using his computer. You’re my responsibility, Isaac, more than anybody else, so it’s my job to provide what you need,” he said simply.

Stiles grinned. “Speaking of ‘providing for Isaac’, this is a perfect opportunity for my amazing dad and Scott’s beautiful mom to give you your gift!”

Derek looked over at them, confusion and suspicion on his face. Mrs. McCall walked over and sat beside him on the other side from Stiles. “Honey, I hope you don’t mind. I know we interfered something serious here, but you’re fast becoming one of our boys so we had to,” she said, then picked up an envelope. “John and I, with Stiles help, set something up for you.”

He took it and opened it, then went wide eyed, eyebrows nearly to his hairline as he pulled the papers out of it. “Why is this a lease? Why is my name on a lease? What is this a- why do I _have a house_?”

“It’s an apartment, and you don’t have it yet, you can say no,” she said quickly. “But we found a little place, cheap but clean and decent, and when we looked into it, the bank says your credit is superb so they’re willing to rent to you right away. All you have to do is sign off on all the paperwork and the place is yours.” She put a hand on his arm. “You and Isaac need a real home, you know? It’s low rent, nothing you won’t be able to handle after…” She looked up at John, who nodded. “Well, after part two of our gift.”

Derek looked at John, surprised. “You mean to tell me there’s something else besides finding me a place to live?” he asked, looking suspicious.

John grinned. “Well, we knew you had to have a way to pay your bills, and we figured you had some money, but you really need a job. Stiles mentioned your degree but he also mentioned New York when we brought him in on the idea.” Derek froze and John nodded at the door. “I know Larry Watson, the Chief of the Fire Department. I work with him a lot so he’s got a favor or two to owe me. We got in touch with your old station in Brooklyn and had your files sent over. They said you had potential, even if your training was still going. I had to really work with him, what with your run-ins with the law being public, but Larry’s willing to give you and me a meeting to see about getting you into training here with a fast track towards getting done with that so you can go straight into the roster.”

Isaac looked surprised. “Derek was a firefighter?” he asked and Scott gaped.

“Dude… really?!”

Derek nodded, looking more than a little dazed. “Yeah. I- I was nearly finished training before Laura was killed.” He looked up. “I can’t- I can’t accept all of this. You two have no reason to do so much for me,” he said, looking between Melissa and John. “I’ve done nothing to deserve this-“

“You did nothing to deserve the crap life has dumped on you either, dude,” Stiles said, thumping him in the arm. “Didn’t stop that from happening. Why should deserving it have anything to do with a gift?” He nudged him. “Be glad I told them about the firefighter thing, they’d have got you a job on a road crew or something.”

Derek smiled hesitantly. “Well… the schedule would work well for a busy alpha,” he admitted, then looked down at the paperwork in his hands, a bright smile unlike any that any of them had ever seen threatening to split his face. “Thank you,” he said, looking up, biting his lip. “Thank you both. So much. I can’t even-“ He looked down at the envelope reverently. “Nobody has ever done so much for me before.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Not that I don’t think they’re great and you should totally be this way to them, but who was it that _kept you alive_ by treading water for two hours with a _two hundred pound dead weight_ in his arms, huh?” he asked and Derek rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Stiles, you saved my life. But you had ulterior motives, they had no reason to do this besides being really nice people. You needed me to save your ass from the monster and if I was dead at the bottom of the pool you’d have been screwed,” he teased and Stiles made a face at him. Derek bumped their shoulders together. “Thanks for telling them about my job,” he added and Stiles met his eyes with a warm smile.

“Not a problem. You deserve it,” he said, meeting Derek’s smile.

~

Sitting across from Larry Watson with John at his side was nerve-wracking for Derek. As Larry looked over his paperwork and his test scores and his letters from his former firehouse, John sat beside him way more patient looking than Derek felt. After what felt like forever, Larry looked up finally. “Well, there’s definitely potential,” he said, glancing at Derek before waved a hand at John. “But you know our policies. You know the cardinal rules for firefighters,” he said and Derek’s hopes fell.

John shook his head. “I know he’s got a checkered past, but I can thoroughly vouch for him, Larry,” he said, leaning forward. “I let the kid sleep in my house, you know I wouldn’t screw you around if I didn’t fully have confidence in this one.”

Larry eyed him, then turned to Derek. “It’s like this,” he began. “Your written scores are near perfect, your physical fitness record at the last place is the most impressive I’ve ever seen, your dependability is great. But the people skills are listed as lacking, kid.” He looked at him. “And your presentation isn’t the best. You just look like trouble. Firefighters are team players. You have to be able to communicate well with your crew. You have to be trustworthy. You have to be part of a brotherhood. You have to be close and reliable and dependable on a personal level. You’re not a very talkative person. They listed you as quiet, reserved, mysterious, and a whole lot of other things that would be great in a novel but not in a firehouse,” he said simply. “We need someone who is responsible and able to work well with others. Someone who isn’t standoffish and can be trusted to be selfless and put others above himself.”

Derek nodded. “I understand your worries, but I can promise you I’m a lot different than I was then.” He nodded to John. “He has seen more than anybody that I’m a changed man. In New York, I had my sister and nobody else. No friends, no family. I had no reason to come out of my shell. I’ve got people who depend on me now. I’ve got an orphaned kid I’m taking care of. I have to provide for him. I’ve been lucky enough to have the Sheriff here put aside my past arrests and trust me to spend time with his family. I have to be trustworthy too and I have to take care of the people around me so I’ve had to learn how to communicate well with others. I’ve done everything I can to turn over a new leaf and all I’m asking for is a chance, Sir. Now that I’ve got settled again, I want nothing more than to start making a difference again.”

John gestured to him. “You know as well as I do he saved a kid’s life not long ago,” he said and Larry nodded. “He just needs a chance and we both know you could use someone this young and dedicated in your firehouse.”

Larry seemed to come to a decision and he closed the file. “Okay, Hale, here’s what I can do,” he said. “We’ll give you a month of four – twelves a week so you can train with the guys, get used to the firehouse, get used to our gear, train up on how we do things around here. We’ll let you on a few runs but mostly you’ll be the bottom of the stack cleaning and maintaining the boys’ gear. After the month is up, if I think you’re ready, we’ll start you on a twenty-four - forty-eight and call you a full part of the team. Your training was almost complete so there’s no reason to start you over.”

Derek smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Sir,” he said, standing to shake his hand.

“This won’t be forgot, Chief Watson,” John said, and the man chuckled.

Derek let John shake the man’s hand and nodded. “I won’t let you down, Chief,” he said as earnestly as possible.

Larry nodded and chuckled. “Hopefully not, Hale. I really do hope you work out.”

~

Getting back to school was actually a relief because it meant finally being done with therapy. He really didn’t think it helped in the end. The only thing that seemed to have done any good is getting closer with the friends who had been around to help him out. He and Scott were closer than they had been since Scott got bitten. Instead of feeling like he was losing Scott to Isaac, Isaac was their third amigo and everything. Even Boyd was starting to not be so quiet around them. Lydia and Allison had become pretty good friends too since his attack. Things with Scott and Allison were always weird but they weren’t as bad anymore. Scott seemed to be getting over his heartbreak and was at least able to be friends with her when they had to hang out together.

Stiles had never felt closer to his dad than now that he could be honest with him about everything. Now that the school term had started and his dad was well and truly comfortable with the ‘werewolf’ thing, Stiles was able to talk to him about what happened at school without making up excuses about why Scott did something or how Isaac knew something. 

Even better, Lacrosse was starting. Scott was the captain and after basically winning them the championship last year and doing excellent in cross country, Stiles was first line. There were a few seniors on the team, but for the most part, the juniors were the ones that Finstock put the most faith in. Stiles knew they were sort of cheating with three werewolves on the team – since Boyd had officially joined the team – but if Finstock was happy, there were fewer suicides to run, so everything was great. 

The only real trouble with lacrosse starting was that Danny started hanging out with them more and sitting with them at lunch, so they had to keep the werewolf speak to a minimum. Lydia just seemed bummed that, even though he liked boys, Danny wasn’t interested in gossiping with her. It was hilarious to see her face when Danny steered conversation back to sports and away from her latest boy toy. It was also a little difficult having Boyd, Danny, and Allison at the table when Lydia started her gossip, because they all joked about Stiles being single and had no idea how much some things were pushing it too far. Lydia always looked on the verge of slapping one of them when Danny made a joke about Stiles dying a virgin.

Although, his jokes changed entirely when, after their first exhibition match, Derek and John were waiting in the parking lot for them after they changed. “Oh hey, Derek!” Stiles said, walking over to the two men. “Didn’t see you, I thought you were working?”

Derek shook his head. “I had an eight to eight today. I missed the match but I got off early enough to pick up Isaac,” he explained. “Where’s he at?”

Stiles looked back at the school and shrugged. “Probably waiting for Scott to finish talking to Finstock.” He noticed Danny looking and waved. “Danny! Dude, you rocked!” he called, and Danny smiled, coming over. “Dad, Danny scored three times, how awesome is that?” he asked and John nodded.

“Good work, Danny,” he said, shaking his hand.

“Thanks, Sheriff,” he said, then glanced at Derek, before smirking at Stiles. “Damn, Stiles, didn’t know you had it in you,” he teased, elbowing him before turning to run. “Sorry, my mom’s here, bye, Stiles!”

Stiles made a face. “Huh?” He was interrupted when Isaac and Scott came running, laughing. 

“I WIN!” Scott cried, then jumped on Stiles, who went down with a squawk. “HA! I win, Stiles is mine!” he cried, sitting up to point at Isaac. “My Stiles.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You’re breaking the Stiles,” he said and Stiles huffed, shoving Scott off.

“Jesus Christ, I think I’m dying,” he said, reaching up towards Derek. “Help me, I can’t move.”

Derek chuckled and grabbed Stiles with one hand, picking him up. “Look, Scott, you broke him.” He put a hand on Stiles’s shoulder to steady him. 

Isaac grinned. “See? Stiles likes me better now,” he said, sliding his arms around Stiles’s waist, moving to look over his shoulder. “Ha!”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I love how you all want me, but I’m really not into either of you, sorry,” he said and Isaac and Scott both made faces. 

John snickered. “Alright boys, we should get home. Derek’s probably tired, Isaac, so you best get going.”

Scott hugged Stiles, then shoved Isaac and ran for the parking lot. “I’ll beat you to Derek’s car!” Scott cried, instigating another race.

Stiles snorted. “Congratulations, Derek, your son is officially a five year old,” he said and Derek rolled his eyes.

“You’re hilarious, really,” he droned, then slid a hand into Stiles’s, squeezing as he leaned closer so that their sides touched. “See you later.”

Stiles nodded, smiling. “Bye Derek. Good luck if Scott tries to follow you and Isaac home,” he teased and Derek rolled his eyes, shoving at Stiles with a hand over his face as he turned to walk off. 

~

At lunch Monday, Stiles had just sat down when Danny looked up and smirked. “So Stiles, all the time we’ve been joking about you being single, you’ve had that hot college boyfriend?” he asked, then grinned. “Cousin Miguel my ass, huh?” he added with a smirk.

Scott choked on his water. “Boyfriend?!” he asked, looking at Stiles in shock.

“Who’s Miguel?” Lydia asked in confusion.

Stiles flushed. “Dude, Danny, _no_ ,” he said, making a face at Scott. “He means Derek. Remember when he was on the run from the cops and we hid him in my room last year? Danny came over and I said he was my cousin Miguel.” 

Scott laughed. “Wait, was that the time you used Derek being hot to bribe Danny into doing that thing for you?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Hey, it was worth it, you think it’s every day I see guys that hot shirtless?” he asked, then looked at Stiles. “But really, you’ve had a boyfriend for a year and nobody knew?”

Stiles shook his head. “First off – NO! Second, that’s Derek Hale. As in ex-murder-suspect Derek Hale. We’re just friends.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “How do you know him then? Your dad’s the sheriff.”

Stiles shrugged. “After all the bad things that happened to him because I called him a murderer, my dad and I have sort of got to know him and he’s a friend of the family.” He nodded at Isaac. “He’s Isaac’s guardian, so we go to his house a lot. He stays at my place a lot. We’re friends.”

Danny hummed. “Well that explains the mystery of how _you_ would get a hot older guy. You didn’t,” he said and Stiles flicked a fry at him.

“If you knew him, you’d know why he’s not that kind of ‘hot older guy,” he dismissed and Allison shrugged.

“I dunno, Stiles, I still don’t like the guy but I’ve got eyes,” she said, and Lydia nodded.

“Damn straight. As annoying as he is, I’d throw him down and take some honey-“

“WHOA!” Scott cried, covering his eyes. “No. Oh God, no!”

Isaac just looked slightly ill. “Ewwww he’s like my _brother_ Lydia!”

Allison just snickered. “Oh Lydia has this whole fantasy worked out that involves the hood of his car,” she joked and Stiles blushed.

“Is it wrong I have fantasies about that car? Not him in them, just the car in general,” he said and Allison laughed.

Boyd chuckled and shook his head. In one of his rare moments of actually speaking to the group, he brought them all to tears of laughter by claiming, “Ya’ll need Jesus.”

~

Derek just watched in amusement as Stiles took one look at the contents of Derek’s shopping cart and looked mortally offended. “Okay, _no_ ,” he stressed, putting his own gallon of milk in the cart before grabbing all of the frozen meals and junk food out of Derek’s car and shoving it in the freezer beside them. 

“Can I help you, Stiles?” he asked lightly. “I’m kind of busy here-“

“Yeah, giving Isaac diabetes!” he chastised. He looked up at him and crossed his arms. “Derek, you’re a terrible provider for your pack if you feed them this.” He took Derek’s wrist and tugged him, only letting go when Derek needed both hands to steer the cart. “I swear, I can’t trust any of you, can I?” he asked, giving Derek a suspicious glare. “You better not be eating fast food all the time.”

Derek chuckled. “Stiles, we’re werewolves, we can burn off-“

“Burn the fat and calories all you want, the cholesterol will get you,” he said. “I know you think you’re invincible, but you’ll be the best looking man to ever drop dead of a heart attack.”

“Another one of your ‘evils of trans fats’ speeches, Stiles?” They stopped and Stiles grinned when he saw Officer Callahan walking around the end of the aisle. “Oh, you’re not John,” he said, stopping to eye Stiles curiously. “I thought the heart attack speech was for your old man, not your young one,” he said, winking at Stiles.

Stiles shrugged. “Never too young to say yes to healthy eating, Callahan. Your wife would appreciate you laying off the cookies, by the way. She told me your blood pressure was up,” he teased, pointing at the three bags of Oreos in the basket Officer Callahan was carrying.

The man chuckled and smiled at Derek. “First rule of working at the department is that the Sheriff’s kid is the fat-police and he will bust your ass faster than we’ll bust a criminal,” he said and Derek made some awkward approximation of a smile before the old man nodded to Stiles. “It was good to see you, Kid,” he said, slapping Stiles on the shoulder as he walked on.

Stiles laughed and shook his head. “I love that guy,” he said, then tugged Derek’s sleeve, heading towards the produce section. “Come on, green things. Green things are good.”

Derek made a grumpy noise when Stiles started choosing Brussels sprouts. “Ew, those are gross, Stiles. We are not buying those-“

“Good for you, low in cholesterol-“

Derek grabbed the bag and set it back in the bin Stiles chose them from. “And they’re gross, I’m not eating that. I don’t even know how to cook it.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes and put them back in the cart. “I’ll teach you.”

Derek gave him an outraged look. “Stiles, I’m not eating that.”

“You’re going to _die_ , Derek-“

“I’m twenty-three years old, I don’t have to worry about heart health!” he argued and Stiles crossed his arms. “No,” he said simply, putting the bag back in the bin.

Stiles gave him a challenging look and put them back. “You have a high-stress job. You know the number one cause of death for fire fighters?”

Derek raised an eyebrow and put the bag back in the bin. “Line of duty?”

“Wrong!” Stiles cried, snatching the bag back. “Heart disease! Also, these are high in vitamin C.”

Derek huffed. “You’re lying, and who cares? I’ll drink orange juice.” He went to grab the bag but Stiles held it out of his reach. “Stiles, stop, put them back-“

“Heart disease, Derek! High stress job combined with heat stress and a lousy diet is the reason fire fighters die most often.” Stiles held them behind his back, narrowing his eyes when Derek stalked around the cart and loomed over him. “I’m not giving them up. You’re going to eat them-“

“I am not, now hand them over,” Derek said, reaching to try and get them from Stiles’s hand without publically showing his wolf-reflexes. “Stiles, stop it,” he whined and Stiles actually laughed.

“Did you just _whine like a little kid_?” he asked, only to yelp when Derek growled and pushed him back against the display of potatoes. “Nope, nu-uh!” Stiles said, giggling as he held the sprouts behind his back.

“Stiles, this is ridiculous, just stop!” Derek argued, though he was smiling as he fumbled with Stiles hands behind him. “Stiles, I’m not buying them-“

“I’ll buy them and _force feed you_ ,” Stiles threatened, only to squeak when Derek’s roaming hand hit his ribs instead of the bag. “Derek! Stooop,” he laughed, and Derek grinned down at him as he pulled him flush, reaching past Stiles for the bag.

They were interrupted just as Derek grabbed the bag and snatched it, holding it over his head with a triumphant sound, his other hand still splayed on Stiles’s back by a throat clearing. They both froze, then looked around, remembering they were _in public_. Stiles saw the woman and man standing and watching them and glanced back when he saw Derek blushing. “Well now, Hale,” the guy started, grinning. “Are we interrupting.”

Stiles glanced down and coughed when he noticed Derek was still holding him flush to his body with a hand on his lower back, the bag of sprouts still up in the air dangling from his fingers. “Derek,” he said softly and Derek let him go, stepping back.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he said, then turned to the others. “Hey Gains. Ramirez,” he said, clearing his throat. 

The woman laughed and stepped forward. “Hi,” she said, holding her hand out to Stiles. “I’m Carla Ramirez. I work dispatch at the station,” she said and Derek nodded.

“Yeah, they work with me,” he said, nodding to the man. “Mark and I went to high school together, too,” he said, looking terribly uncomfortable.

Stiles just fixed on his best ‘people person’ smile and shook the guy’s hand as well. “Stiles Stilinski. Nice to meet you,” he said, nudging Derek. “Derek doesn’t talk about work that much when I’m around so he probably hasn’t mentioned me to you guys either,” he said, and Ramirez gave Derek an amused look.

“No, I didn’t know you had anybody,” she said. “That’ll sure put a damper on the way some of the EMTs come by for paperwork that doesn’t exist just to hit on you, Hale,” she said, winking. “Stilinski, you wouldn’t happen to be the Sheriff’s kid, would you?” she asked.

Stiles nodded, trying to not look as awkward as Derek did. “Yeah, that would be me.”

Gains shot Derek a look. “So, Hale, did you always play for the other team? I mean, when you started growing into your teeth in high school, I did wonder why you never had a girlfriend,” he said and Derek and Stiles exchanged a look, then both shook their heads.

“NO, no, Derek and I aren’t-“

“Stiles isn’t-“

“Yeah, no way, I’m only seventeen, and he’s-“

“He’s just a kid-“

Ramirez waved a hand. “Okay, okay, we get it,” she said, then winked at Stiles. “Wouldn’t want the old man hearing anything, huh?” she asked and Stiles gave an offended and embarrassed huff. She wiggled her fingers at Derek. “See you at work, Hale,” she said and Mark gave him a knowing leer before following her. 

Derek and Stiles watched them walk off, before Stiles cleared his throat. “Well that was embarrassing,” he said and Derek shot him a look.

“If you would’ve just put down the-“

“OH my GOD fine!” Stiles put the bag down. “No Brussels sprouts, Jesus! But you’re eating the damn carrots,” he said, leading the way around to the other side of the display.

Derek just made a happy noise. “I like carrots,” he said and Stiles glared at him.

“Good for you, you child,” he said, then smiled begrudgingly. “I like carrots better too,” he admitted and Derek looked smug. “Oh stop it,” Stiles said, shoving him halfheartedly. 

~

Stiles looked exceedingly smug when Isaac offered to do the dishes and left with a, “Thanks for cooking, Stiles, Derek just orders takeout.”

Derek rolled his eyes and shoved Stiles playfully. “Oh shut up-“

“Nope, it’s not every day I get to say ‘I told you so’ to anybody,” Stiles said, then frowned. “Well, Scott, but not the big, bad alpha,” he said. Derek started to stand up and Stiles grabbed his hand, tugging him back. “No, stay. Isaac’s got it,” he said and Derek fell back next to Stiles. “Stay,” he said playfully and Derek huffed.

“Dog jokes are getting old,” he said, though he let Stiles curl into his side. He moved his arm and curled it around Stiles’s shoulders, sighing. “Dinner was good,” he admitted and Stiles just gave him a knowing look.

“Cause I’m right and you’re wrong and it’s funny,” he said, then yawned. “So hey, your coworkers think you’re a cradle robber,” he said and Derek laughed in surprise.

“Gee, thanks for that, I thought we were going to pretend that never happened,” he said flatly and Stiles grinned.

“No way, it’s _hilarious_!” He cackled evilly. “Dude do you know Danny said the same thing after that night you picked Isaac up after the game? He was all ‘cousin Miguel my ass’.” 

Derek groaned. “Not _that_.”

Stiles snickered. “Yep. He was all ‘oh man, no wonder you’re single, you’ve got a college boyfriend’ and it was hilarious after I got over being horrified by the implication.”

Derek gave an offended huff. “Wow, you were ‘horrified’ by someone implying you were dating me? Nothing better for your self-esteem than a skinny teenager being horrified of your face,” he groused and Stiles snickered.

“Oh whatever,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You know what I mean. I just mean having everybody at the table going all ‘ooooh so Stiles has a hot older boyfriend’ was kind of horrifically embarrassing.” He nudged him. “Pretty sure we both had that encounter already tonight.”

Derek snorted. “I was horrified at being caught acting like a child in front of people I work with.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “Did you know that you turn really pink when you’re embarrassed?” he asked and Derek shoved at his face playfully. “I’m serious! You get all red. It’s adorable!”

Derek glared. “I am not adorable,” he argued, brows furrowed.

Stiles giggled and nodded, looking up from his spot leaning back against Derek’s arm behind him. “You really are. Your buddy from work said something about growing into your teeth, but I think your bunny teeth are cute,” he said, reaching out to poke at Derek’s lips.

Derek growled. “I’ll bite you,” he threatened and Stiles grinned up at him.

“No you won’t,” he teased. “But really, c’mon, you cannot have self-esteem issues,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. “You’re _you_.”

Derek sighed, but shrugged. “I don’t know. I know what I look like,” he admitted. “You don’t live with my face and not learn how to use it to your advantage. But until recently, I guess I did have some self-esteem issues not about my looks,” he admitted.

Stiles nodded. “I can see that. You have a lot of responsibility with the pack and I’d probably be really worried about whether or not I could do it either.” He looked up. “Hey so your buddy, he said something about how you didn’t date in high school either. What’s with that? I can get it now, you’ve got more issues than national geographic, but high school was before you had any responsibilities or any of your emotional scars,” he said and Derek rolled his eyes.

“Great, openly talking about my emotional scars?” he asked and Stiles smiled apologetically. Derek ducked his head. “Around the time I started not being gangly and dorky looking, when I started to look hot, I… met someone,” he admitted.

Stiles frowned at the shift in Derek’s demeanor. He slid his hand into Derek’s, pulling it from behind him to hold in his lap. “Derek?” he asked softly.

Derek bit his lip. “Let’s just say you’re not the only one with intimacy issues,” he said, looking up at the ceiling, his grip tightening in Stiles’s hand. “I cannot believe I’m telling you this,” he said weakly. “When I was sixteen I met a woman,” he said, and Stiles watched him, even if Derek wouldn’t look at him. “She was beautiful and I met her when I was running out in the preserve. I should’ve known then that someone off the paths had to be suspicious, but she smiled at me and looked at me like I was something amazing so I talked. I babbled really. But she let me walk her back to her car and then asked me to meet her in town.” He snorted. “The next day I met her and we went out and before I knew what the hell I was even getting into, I let her talk me into the backseat of her car.” 

Stiles whistled. “Damn, go Derek,” he said and Derek cringed, shaking his head. “Oh… not go Derek?”

Derek laughed weakly. “Obviously I was fully on board with it, it isn’t like what- what happened to you or anything. I was sixteen and this beautiful woman was taking off her clothes.”

Stiles frowned suddenly. “Hey, so… you keep saying ‘woman’,” he said, and Derek nodded.

“She was twenty-one or twenty-two, I don’t remember,” he said and Stiles gaped.

“WHAT?! Holy SHIT she did WHAT?!” he cried and Derek nodded.

“After that, obviously she had me hook, line, and sinker. For two months she would come up to me in the woods and we’d go places. Sometimes we’d go to town and do things, sometimes we’d have sex in the forest. It was crazy and I thought I was in love. I thought I’d found my perfect ‘the one’ person. I was so crazy in love that I would’ve done anything for her. I’d tell her anything, do anything, let her do anything. It was like she was the sun and nothing else was as important.” Derek took a breath. “Then she started asking me to tell her about werewolves. She knew what I was, which should’ve been SUCH a warning, but I just thought she was a human who knew. I didn’t have any reason to be afraid because she loved me, right?” He let out a soft sound. “She asked me what we did for full moons. And I told her. I told her about how my family always got together, my family and my dad’s family and spent the night in the basement so that none of the little ones could get out and get hurt.”

Stiles suddenly paled. His throat went dry and he squeezed Derek’s hand tighter. “Derek… was it- was she-“

Derek nodded. “Kate Argent.”

Stiles felt like someone had dumped ice water into his stomach. “Oh God, Derek,” he breathed, his heart breaking for the man next to him. “Oh _God_ when you said ‘it’s my fault’-“

Derek laughed weakly, voice strained. “Because it was.”

Stiles shook his head. “NO! Derek, no, it was not.” He reached out and turned Derek’s face to his. “Derek, that was not your fault,” he said, and Derek looked up with so much pain and sadness in those beautiful eyes and Stiles stroked his cheek. “Derek, nothing that happened was your fault.”

Derek scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I was _stupid_. I was naïve and I genuinely thought some beautiful woman suddenly showed interest in me for a real reason. I thought she really liked me and she killed my family because of me!” He wiped hard at the tear that slipped down his cheek after his eye roll and Stiles stopped him from scratching his face.

“If it’s your fault Kat Argent was a psycho bitch, then it’s my fault I got attacked-“

“Stiles, that was never your fault-“

Stiles put a hand over his mouth. “I was stupid. I was naïve because I genuinely thought a cool, older guy really liked me,” he said, purposefully echoing Derek’s words. “And what happened? He nearly raped me.” He shook his head. “If being taken advantage of for being young and not thinking straight is your fault, then it’s my fault too.” He gave him a challenging look. “Do you think it’s my fault that bastard almost raped me?”

Derek glared. “No, Stiles, but-“

“Then neither was it your fault what that evil bitch did,” Stiles admonished. Stiles shifted to his knees and pulled Derek close, arms around Derek’s shoulders as he held Derek’s head to his chest. “What happened to you is no more your fault than what happened to me being mine,” he whispered against Derek’s hair. Derek tightened his arms around Stiles and Stiles closed his eyes as Derek’s heartbeat accelerated and he trembled. “You’ve never told anybody this have you?” he asked softly and Derek shook his head.

“I was so stupid, Stiles,” he admitted, voice muffled by Stiles’s shirt. “I was so stupid. And they died. They died because of me. They died because I’m _stupid_ -“

“They died because she was psychotic,” Stiles said softly, stroking his fingers through Derek’s short hair. “I’m so sorry you’ve been carrying this with you for so long,” he said, and Derek whined in the back of his throat. “Shhh, it’s okay,” Stiles said, holding him close. “You never cared when I cried on you, dude, I wouldn’t judge you at all,” he said and Derek laughed wetly against his chest. “Well shit, man, you said ‘intimacy issues’ and you meant it, huh?” Stiles said and Derek laughed, pulling back. He wiped at his face and Stiles just looked at him. “You okay?”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, just, you know, your everyday breakdown,” he said, sighing heavily. “So yeah… intimacy issues.” He nodded. “I haven’t dated anybody since then. I can’t,” he admitted. “I just… I tried. In New York, I tried just hooking up but that didn’t happen either. I freak out, you know?” he admitted. “I tried guys, it didn’t change. I can’t let anybody be with me in a situation where I’m that vulnerable.” He looked down at Stiles’s hand and pulled it into his lap, looking at his fingers. “It sounds so unlike what a tough-looking guy like me would say, but even with a stranger, sex is still too personal to me. When I tried, I couldn’t let it get too far because during sex you have to let your guard down. You have to let go of all of your senses and that’s how I protect myself. I can’t read a lie if I’m lost in the moment. So I don’t try. I’d have to trust someone with everything to let myself go like that and I don’t know if I can ever trust someone that much.”

Stiles smiled sadly. “I can understand that,” he said, then reached up with his other hand and cupped Derek’s cheek. “It’s a shame too. Because you may have a rough exterior, but the real Derek is amazing. I’m so glad I got to know you so well and it’s really sad that you can’t break down those walls for more people.” He looked into Derek’s eyes. “As incredible of a friend as you are, I can only imagine how lucky someone would be to be loved by you, Derek.”

Derek smiled. “Well, I’m lucky enough to have become such good friends as I am with you,” he said and Stiles grinned.

“Damn right you’re lucky, I’m an amazing friend. I win at friendship, ask Scott!” Stiles said and Derek laughed. “Seriously, I’m half the reason he made it this far without dying. He ate _glue_ , Derek. All the time! Until he was _ten_!”

Derek just laughed and shoved him playfully. “I get it, I get it, Stiles is the best.”

“No, dude, I’m serious. Glue. At ten. _With glitter in it_ ,” he continued, detailing to Derek exactly what happened when a ten year old ate glitter glue. Derek was glad that Stiles took his painful confession and moved him past it, even if this subject of discussion was random as hell.

~

Stiles’s Jeep was in the shop so he was expecting his dad to come pick him up, or send somebody else, so he was surprised when he got outside and saw Derek had pulled into his usual parking spot and was leaning on the hood of his car. Stiles knew Isaac was going home with Scott so he started to head over. He noticed most of the students pointing and whispering at Derek, and Stiles couldn’t blame them. Derek was leaning against his car, elbows on the car so that he was leaned back, elongating his body. He had on tight black jeans, and his blue and red BCFD tee-shirt, all the while the sun glinted off his aviators. 

When Stiles got closer Derek sat up and nodded to him. “You know, I’m pretty sure doing that’s a liability to your mental health,” Stiles said, kicking at his ankle lightly as he walked up to him.

Derek sat up and raised an eyebrow at Stiles, who was taller when Derek was still leaning back. “What am I doing?”

Stiles grinned. “Lounging across your car like a pinup, dude. Look around you, teenage girls are salivating over you.” Derek looked around and made a slightly alarmed face at the sight of a flock of nearly ten girls all watching with hungry looks on their faces.

“Jesus Christ, what’s in the water?” Derek asked, standing up quickly.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “Dude, are you nuts? What wouldn’t teenaged girls be losing it over? Hot guy, sexy car, and your shirt – that’s very tight and shows off your chest and arms really well – tells them you’re a _firefighter_. Derek, that’s like… a wet dream in real life,” he said and Derek rolled his eyes, though his ears turned a little pink.

“Alright, in the car, before I get swarmed by hormonal teenagers,” he said and Stiles raised an eyebrow.

“In the car? You’re my ride?”

Derek glowered. “No, I like to sit in a parking lot and wait for you and not drive you home,” he said and Stiles made a face.

“Don’t get pissy, I just didn’t know,” he said, going to slide into the passenger seat, tossing his bag between the seats. “I thought you were working today?”

Derek shook his head. “Tomorrow. I’m on the twenty-four/forty-eights now so I get two days off and one day on.”

Stiles grinned. “That’s actually a pretty sweet schedule dude. You only work a third of the month. How sweet is that?”

Derek nodded, putting the car in gear. “It’s convenient. Gives me plenty of time with the pack.” He picked up his phone. “And if there’s an emergency they need more people for, they have me on call while off duty. Like, a big one. If there was an earthquake or something.”

Stiles turned to him with a devious grin. “Hey Derek, have you had to kick in doors and save gorgeous women’s lives yet?” he asked and Derek gave him a look. “What?!”

“I’m not even going to ask you what porno you saw that in,” Derek said, chuckling. “No, but I did actually rescue a cat from a tree Monday,” he said and Stiles burst out laughing.

“Oh my God, shut up!” Stiles cackled. “You did not!”

Derek nodded, smiling. “I did. This old lady on Parker Lane had this little tiny kitten that somehow climbed up this big oak tree. Tiny kitten. I have no idea how it got there. I’m almost convinced an eagle picked it up to eat it and dropped it or something,” he said. “Little orange tabby with big blue eyes and this pathetic little ‘meow’ and then it bit the hell out of me when I tried to get it down.”

Stiles clapped hard, unable to contain his glee. “Derek Hale, saving kittens one branch at a time!”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I got a box of cookies for that,” he said playfully. “Mrs. Willis was so happy she cried and gave me cookies. Ramirez laughed her ass off so I didn’t share with her.”

Stiles looked over at Derek curiously, watching the way the line around his eyes were crinkled in a faint smile, not a stressed frown. His lips were slightly upturned, not in a tight line anymore. “You’re happy,” Stiles realized.

Derek glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Stiles shook his head. “No, _happy_. Like, with your life. With everything.” He reached out and slid his hand into Derek’s. “You look younger and brighter. Your default expression lately seems to be a slight smile, not an angry scowl. It’s kind of amazing.”

Derek shrugged. “I know what I’m doing for the first time since I was a teenager, Stiles. I’ve got a pack, we’re safe and stable, I’ve got a home, and I’ve got a job. I _am_ happier lately.” He squeezed Stiles’s hand. “You’re a big part of that, you know?”

Stiles smiled bashfully, looking out the window. “I’m pretty happy lately too,” he admitted, looking out the window to fight back a fluttering feeling at the way Derek’s fingers laced with his on the center console. 

~

Derek was washing one of the trucks with Ramirez when he heard one of the older guys shout his name from in the rec room through the open door nearer to the front. “HALE!”

He raised an eyebrow at Ramirez, who shrugged. “Yeah Cole?” he called back, too busy wiping mud off the side of the truck for shenanigans in the house.

“Your boyfriend’s here!” he called back and Ramirez smirked.

Derek huffed. “Stiles is NOT my boyfriend!” he shouted back, only to hear a bunch of laughs from inside.

Gains was the one who called back. “Then how come you knew who we were talking about being here?”

Derek rolled his eyes, then tossed down his rag. “Let me go see what they’re going on about,” he grumbled, heading to the door to the rec room. He walked in, and got even more laughs. “Ha ha, yeah, laugh it up. What’re you on about, Cole?” he asked, leaning with his hands on top of the door casing.

Howards nodded her head towards the front of the building. “Stilinski’s in with the Chief,” she said. “Not sure why. Probably bringing something over from his old man.” 

Gains smirked. “Funny how you knew who we meant by ‘your boyfriend’ if he ain’t your boyfriend,” he said and Derek gave him an annoyed look.

Derek was cut off from replying, though, by the Chief coming in with Stiles following him. “Howards, the sheriff needs you to verify your report on an accident you were on last week. His deputies’ reports don’t match ours quite well,” he said, tossing her a file. “Gains, that tree that fell on the house you did the rescue on doesn’t match the timeline with dispatch as in your report. Get your times right.” Chief Watson glanced at Derek, who raised an eyebrow, then rolled his eyes. “You have a messenger,” he said, and Stiles waved from behind the Chief.

“Dad says you can come help him clean out the garage tomorrow night after you’ve had some sleep. Something about you getting some of our old stuff for your kitchen,” he said, leaning on the back of the chair in front of him. “He was going to just call you when you get off in the morning but since he was sending me over anyways, he told me to relay the message.”

Derek nodded. “That’s good. It’s just some random things like a spice rack and stuff. Isaac wants a real kitchen,” he explained. “Is that everything? I’m kinda busy,” he said apologetically, nodding back into the garage.

Stiles made a face. “He also said to tell you I got a C on my shop test so I can’t come over tomorrow night,” he said and Derek sighed, letting his head drop.

“Stiles, why did you make a C? We studied for that crap,” he groaned and Stiles huffed.

“Well excuse me if I don’t know anything at all about building things, Mr. ‘Architecture Degree’,” he argued flippantly. “How am I supposed to remember how far apart the studs go in a wall! I hate shop! I’m only in it because Scott wanted me to have a class with him.”

Derek just gave him a flat look. “We’ll talk about this later,” he said and Stiles made a face.

Watson just raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of them, before clapping a hand on Stiles’s shoulder. “Son, how do you get a C in shop?” he asked in an amused tone.

“Because manly things aren’t my forte,” Stiles said simply. “I can bake a soufflé like nobody else, but give me tools and everything goes to hell, Chief. Swear to God, I may be an athlete, but that’s probably the only macho thing about me,” he said as the started back out. “You can ask my dad, I tried to make a birdhouse with him when I was twelve, and- Oh,” he glanced back and waved, smiling. “Bye Derek, see you tomorrow,” he said, and Derek just smiled as he met his eyes.

“Bye Stiles,” he said simply, listening with a smile as the Chief and Stiles disappeared through the door, Stiles still going on about the ‘great birdhouse attempt’. 

He didn’t realize he had a stupid smile on his face until Cole snickered and Howards cooed. “Awww, that’s adorable,” she said, and Derek’s eyes flickered over to her. “Really, you’ve got it bad, Hale,” she said, and Gains snickered, batting his eyelashes.

“Bye Derek,” he mimed and Derek rolled his eyes.

“You keep joking and the Sheriff will hear the wrong person say the wrong thing and suddenly I’ll get shot,” he grumbled as he turned to head back out to the truck. When he got there and took up his rag again, he saw Ramirez smirking at him and waved it at her. “Not a word.”

“Hey, he’s a cutie if you’re into the jailbait, twink thing-“

“I swear to God, Ramirez!” Derek shouted, flicking soap suds at her, though he couldn’t help but laugh along with her.

~

Stiles was still flying high on adrenaline when they all ran back into the locker room, cheering and jumping around. Scott slammed Stiles into a locker, then pulled him into a hug. “Oh my God, you scored the game winning goal!” he cried, and Stiles laughed gleefully.

“Holy shit, I did!” he cried, yelping when Isaac snatched him into a bone rushing hug. “Air! Air dude!”

Danny threw his glove at Stiles, who huffed when he got hit in the face with a flying glove. “You did great, Stiles.”

Stiles held out his hands, gesturing to Danny. “Dude, Danny, you scored three times in one game, I just scored the opening and closing ones! You’re the star, buddy!” he called, starting up a chant of Danny’s name with Scott, both of them hopping up onto the bench to direct others to join in, giggling at Danny’s smug smile and mock bowing.

The door swung open and Finstock walked in. “Alright guys! You did it! First game of the season won!” he called, and they all cheered. He tossed his clipboard over his shoulder, grinning. “Danny! You are a blessing and I thank your parents for creating you, send your mom flowers from me,” he said and Danny made a face before shrugging. “McCall, you did your job well, great calling the game!” He looked from Scott to Stiles, who was still hanging off him. “Stilinski! Who knew getting laid would turn you into a lacrosse machine!” he cried and Stiles made a horrified face as several people laughed. Scott looked creeped out until the coach continued. “Fair warning, half the moms in the stands seem to be planning to have their way with your porn star looking, firefighter boyfriend, FYI. Might wanna buy him some mace.” He shook his head. “Guy may have muscles on his muscles but housewives are like rabid chipmunk zombies. They’ll eat him alive.”

Stiles spluttered. “I- What- Derek’s not- COACH!” he cried, slapping a hand over his face. He turned to Scott and lowered his voice. “Is he even allowed to say that stuff?!”

Scott shrugged. “Pretty sure he’s not really allowed to say half the things he says.”

“So!” Finstock said, clapping his hands. “You all did great - except you Greenberg, you still suck – and everybody be sure to thank Stilinski’s super-hot boyfriend next time you see him for whatever the hell kind of sex magic he has that makes Stilinski a better player,” he said with finality.

Stiles just stared blankly, groaning and slamming his head against the locker when everybody that passed snickered at him. “Oh God, I hate him so much.”

Danny chuckled. “Hey Stiles, think you can share your ‘porn star boyfriend’ and his magic dick?” he asked, winking on his way past.

“I HATE YOU MORE, DANNY!” he called, glowering when Scott snickered. “Nobody tells Derek,” he said, looking at Isaac. “No one!”

~

Twenty minutes later, Stiles, Scott, and Isaac stumbled out to the parking lot, hauling their gear and still vibrating with energy from the adrenaline that hadn’t dispersed yet, only to find Derek sitting on the hood of his car looking more than a little afraid of the two women, Danny, Boyd, and Lydia and one of her friends standing talking to him. “Oh crap,” Scott said suddenly, bursting into giggles. “Dude, Isaac, listen to Marley,” he said and Isaac turned his head, only to burst out laughing.

Stiles raised an eyebrow and Isaac choked out, “Marley is hitting on Derek so hard, man, and her _mom_ is hitting on him too!”

Stiles groaned. “He’s my ride but if I go over there, Danny will say something, and-“

“Stiles!” Lydia called, waving at him. “Come here!” she called and he shrugged at Scott, then jogged over. “Stiles you were amazing!” She jumped at him and Stiles yelped, nearly dropping Lydia as they spun around. “When did you get good?” she asked and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you do, don’t ask Coach Finstock that,” he muttered, but Danny smirked over her shoulder. “NO-“

“You mean Finstock giving your ‘super-hot firefighter boyfriend’ the credit for making you a better athlete through some unknown sex magic?” he asked and Stiles groaned, putting his face in his hands.

Derek coughed. “ _What_?!”

Danny grinned. “Yeah, Finstock thinks you fucked talent into Stiles, it’s HILARIOUS!” he said, then paused and waved. “I’m Danny by the way, if you didn’t remember-“

“He remembers, trust me,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. “Just… just don’t,” he said, then shot Derek an apologetic shrug. “I don’t know what he thinks or how he got that idea?” he tried and Derek rolled his eyes.

Marley exchanged a look with the two women and then turned. “Sooo… Stiles. You and him?” she asked, and Stiles blushed.

“No! I mean- Psh, my dad would throw his ass in jail in a heartbeat,” he said, then continued abruptly when he saw Marley’s mom and he assumed her aunt exchange looks, then turn to smirk at Derek. “And! And Derek’s celibate. Yep. Joining the priesthood,” he said quickly, earning a flat look from Derek. Stiles gave him a pointed look and jerked his head at the two women. “So, we better go, Derek’s got tons of praying to do,” he said, grabbing up his gear, circling towards the back. “So, Derek, trunk?”

Derek gave an awkward waved. “Nice to see you again, Lydia,” he said, then nodded at Danny. “Isaac, don’t stay up late, we’ve got laundry tomorrow,” he called to Scott and Isaac, who nodded and headed on. 

Derek slid into the car and glared the second Stiles hopped into the passenger seat. “I hate you,” he said gruffly and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t blame me! Do you know where Coach said to thank my ‘porn star boyfriend’ since ‘sex made you better’?! IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY!” he hissed as they pulled out. “I’m pretty sure he can go to jail for that. Probably,” he said, making a face. “Although one time he told us the only person allowed to have sex in the locker room was him, so I’m pretty sure he should’ve been arrested a long time ago. He’s just crazy, not an actual pervert so they don’t report him.”

Derek just snorted. “That man is way more disturbed than I ever have been and I’ve got more issues than… what did you say?” he asked and Stiles giggled.

“More issues than Time,” he said, slumping in his seat. “Dude, Derek,” he said softly, biting back a huge smile. “Did you see? I scored the winning goal of the first game. _Me_!”

Derek smiled as he looked ahead and nodded, looking pleased. “Yeah, you were kind of awesome,” he said, reaching out to find Stiles’s hand, sliding their fingers together. “There weren’t any parties or anything after the game?” he asked and Stiles made a face.

“Probably, but I’ve lost interest in getting drunk after Lydia’s birthday punch spiked with wolfs bane made me hallucinate my dad on a bender telling me I ruined his life.” He chuckled bitterly. “That combined with fear of being attacked again means getting drunk with teenagers is even less my idea of fun.” He waved his free hand. “Doesn’t help that all my friends can’t get drunk anymore. Well, Danny could but he’s probably going back to hang out at Lydia’s house. They’ve kind of become best bros lately.”

Derek squeezed his fingers. “So if parties were out of the question, you want me to just take you home?” he asked, glancing over. “Or we could go do something else. It’s only nine-thirty. Your dad just said home before one.” He smiled mischievously. “And I happen to know he won’t be home until after three anyhow,” he added.

Stiles smirked over at him. “You willing to let me stay out until my dad gets home and vouch for me being home by curfew? You’re a terrible firefighter, aren’t you supposed to be a good, upstanding, role model?” he teased.

Derek chuckled. “Nah, I just didn’t get to be a normal teenager so I figure I can cut you some slack.” He tapped his thumb on the wheel. “I’m not getting you drunk, though. I know you said you didn’t feel like it, but in the future, I’m not supplying teenagers with alcohol,” he said firmly. “I could get fired for that. Hell your dad could arrest me.” He smiled. “So, hours to burn celebrating your big win, what do you want to do? Wanna go pick up Scott and Isaac and go see a late movie?” he suggested

Stiles hummed, thinking. “Actually, I think I want pie,” he said and Derek shot him a confused look at the red light.

“Pie.”

Stiles nodded, grinning. “Yeah. You know Mary Mac’s? They’re open twenty-four hours. Let’s go eat pie,” he said and Derek snickered.

“Alright, if that’s what you want, we will go eat pie,” he said and Stiles smiled contentedly, nodding. 

When they got to the restaurant, they weren’t the only ones there that had been at the game. Stiles waved at Allison with some of her friends as they headed to a booth by the window. Derek shrugged off his jacket when they sat down and he looked around. “Damn, I haven’t been here since before I left,” he said and Stiles grinned.

“Well then, you’re in for a treat! Ethel loves me and feeds me the best of all they have,” he said, beaming when the old woman came from behind the counter. “Ethel! How are you tonight, beautiful?” he flirted and the old lady chuckled.

“I heard your team won the tennis tournament or something. You’re on the squad, right?” she asked, and Stiles bit back a snicker and nodded.

“Yeah, we won tonight. Actually scored two goals myself,” he said and she smiled back.

“Well look at you! You know, if you get any more handsome and talented I’m gonna have to trade my grandson for you. I bet the Sheriff would love that, huh?” she asked, then chuckled, pulling out a pen. “Anyhow, what’ll it be, Sugar?” she asked, glancing at Derek, only to double. “Why Derek Hale!” she said and Derek looked startled that she knew him. “Oh how’ve you been, Sweetheart?! I haven’t seen you in _years_ ,” she said, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “Stiles, this one right here used to eat us out of hamburgers after school. He and his friends would catch a ride over once a week. It’s a miracle he isn’t the size of that car out there by now,” she said, ruffling Derek’s hair. “Goodness, speaking of growing up handsome,” she said, shaking her head with a fond smile. “You always were a pretty boy,” she cooed. “What’ve you been up to? I remember you had some trouble a while back but everything seemed okay after a few months.”

Derek nodded sheepishly. “Just a misunderstanding with the local law enforcement is all,” he said, then smiled that smile that Stiles always thought made him look so much younger than he was. “I’m actually working at the fire station now. Sheriff Stilinski helped me get back on my feet after all that happened last year and he was able to get me in with the department since I’d been training while I was away.”

She smiled sadly and nodded. “I can understand that, Sweetie.” She chuckled. “I’m glad the Sheriff helped you out. You always were such a good boy, you deserve a little help here and there.” She pulled her pad up again. “So, let me guess, Stiles, pecan tonight?” she asked, and he beamed.

“You know it, Gorgeous! And coffee if you have some fresh,” he said, but Derek cleared his throat.

“Stiles, you sure coffee’s a good idea?” he asked pointedly, nudging his feet under the table. 

Stiles sighed. “Decaf, if you could, Ethel,” he amended and she chuckled.

“Alright, and what about you, Sweetie?” she asked Derek, who looked at Stiles, then shrugged.

“Surprise me, Ethel. I’ll have a coffee too,” he said and she nodded, making a last mark.

“You got it babies. I’ll be right back with your coffee,” she said, leaving the table.

Stiles eyed Derek and smirked. “So, burgers huh? Damn, your arteries are probably fried already,” he said, grinning. “Looks like Brussels sprouts after all-“

“ _Never_ ,” Derek argued, then shrugged. “I wasn’t really friends with them, it was guys from the swim team. I was pretty fast so we burned a lot of calories. Werewolf appetite, plus teenaged boy, plus swimmer. I ate a _lot_.”

Stiles chortled. “You eat a lot now. The only reason you’re not fat is because you work out so much. I’m pretty sure you work out more than anyone _alive_ ,” he teased.

Derek smirked. “I don’t look this good without some work,” he joked, then grinned as Stiles laughed loudly.

“Oh I get it,” he agreed. “I’m pretty sure I couldn’t possibly get the bulk you have. You’re like two-hundred pounds of big, manly muscle and I’m one-fifty on a good day, even if I’m the same height.”

Derek nodded. “It’s not my fault you’re skinny-“

Stiles scoffed. “I am not _skinny_ ,” he denied in dramatic offense. “I am _slender_ ,” he corrected. “I may be more honestly about one-forty-five, but it’s pure lean muscle!” He pushed up his shirt sleeve and flexed. “See? It’s there,” he said, poking his bicep. “I’m just _lean_ muscle,” he said.

Derek stared at him flatly then didn’t even move as he flexed his chest. “Right, ‘lean muscle’… better known as skinny.”

Stiles glared at his chest in the shirt that was stretched tight across it and crossed his arms self-consciously. “Yeah, well, I like being thin, it fits with my look.”

Derek just nodded in mock seriousness. “Lanky geek works well for you, Stiles. It’s a great look. Very in.”

Stiles just wiggled his eyebrows. “Say what you want, but I’ve got a nice ass and I look taller than I am. My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard,” he said flatly and Derek actually cracked up.

“Oh that was so bad, Stiles, really,” he snickered, putting a hand over his mouth. 

Stiles threw a napkin at him and rolled his eyes. “Whatever, you’re just jealous I wear clothes that fit comfortably,” he joked.

Derek shrugged, pushing up his sleeves to his elbows. “I actually like tight clothes. It feels better. Less like I’m gonna get snagged on something. Loose clothes just feel almost like I’m not wearing anything.” He nodded at Stiles’s shoulders. “Besides, you don’t wear clothes as loose as you used to. You grew into them in the past year.” His eyes lingered on the way Stiles’s jaw had defined some, his face losing a little of his youthful roundness, though he still had a very young, soft face, made even more young by his big brown eyes and long lashes, like a deer.

Stiles grumbled. “Yeah, well, you spend a few months running with werewolves and you fill out through the shoulders from the muscle gain.” He narrowed his eyes at Derek’s cheeks. “I still can’t manage the stubble though,” he complained. “I swear to God, you were clean shaven last night.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Well yeah, generally guys grow facial hair constantly after they shave.”

Stiles flapped a hand. “I mean THAT! Full on stubble! In like twenty-four hours!”

Derek chuckled in amusement. “Well yeah, most guys shave every day. I’m just lazy.”

Stiles made a grumpy sound, sitting back and crossing his arms suspiciously. “I shave like once a week,” he admitted and Derek just smiled.

“You’re seventeen, Stiles, it’s totally normal for boys your age to not grow much facial hair yet. Especially when you’re not a werewolf,” he pointed out. “Look at Isaac. He _is_ a werewolf and I don’t think he shaves but every few days.” He judged Stiles’s foot. “Besides, you would look weird with facial hair. You’ve got such a sweet little face,” he teased and Stiles kicked him half-heartedly.

“Hey you have a sweet face too,” he said and Derek scoffed disbelievingly. “No really,” Stiles said, leaning on his elbows. “You have the manly jaw and stubble, but you’ve got big, bright eyes and this adorable, innocent look when you smile. Not to mention the bunny teeth are _seriously_ adorable.”

Derek’s ears turned red. “I’m not adorable, stop that-“

“You look like a little boy when you laugh, Derek-“

“I do _not_! I’m a grown ass man!” Derek complained, and Stiles started to reply, only to stop when Ethel came back with their coffees and their desserts.

“Here we go my babies!” She put a coffee and a slice of pecan pie in front of Stiles. “And hopefully you’ll like this, Derek,” she said, putting a slice of warm apple pie with a scoop of ice cream on it in front of him. “You two call me back if you need something else,” she said, wandering off.

Stiles shot out his fork and stole some ice cream before Derek could swat his hand away. “Mmmm she really does like you,” he teased and Derek gave him a playful glare.

“Heeeey my ice cream,” he growled playfully, taking a bite of pie and ice cream together. “Mmmm that’s amazing,” he said around his mouthful.

Stiles nodded, taking a bite of his pecan pie. “This is really good too,” he said, then scooped up a bite, holding out his fork. “Here, try.”

Derek eyed his fork dubiously. “I’m not letting you feed me pie, Stiles-“

“Just try it,” Stiles said, holding the fork out. Derek sat back some and Stiles laughed. “C’mon, don’t make me go all ‘airplane’ on you, dude,” he said, leaning up out of his seat, holding the fork out to Derek. “Derek, eat it!”

“Stiles, no!” he argued, laughing when Stiles tried his best to reach it out. “Stiles! Stiles! Stop!” he squeaked, ducking down in his seat.

“C’mon Derek, the choo-choo needs to go in the tunnel-“

“Pretty sure Freud would say so much about that-“

“Shut up! Lemme feed you,” Stiles argued, sitting back down with a narrow-eyed glare. “Derek Hale, eat this pie.” He offered him the handle of the fork. “Feed yourself if you must.”

Derek took the fork and ate the bite off of it, humming before handing it back. “That’s really good,” he said, licking his lips. He made a face. “Too sweet, but that’s just me and pecan pie.”

Stiles nodded, leaning out to take a forkful of Derek’s pie. “I can understand that. You don’t strike me as much of a sweet tooth kinda guy,” he said, eating a bit of apple pie. “Mmmmm, that is good,” he said, eyeing Derek playfully before jolting forward, fork out.

Derek snatched the pie place aside, grinning when Stiles’s fork his table. “Ha! No pie for you,” he said, then laughed at the dramatic pout on Stiles’s face. Stiles stopped breathing when Derek laughed and smiled brightly across his plate. 

Derek was _beautiful_.

Stiles knew that, both objectively and subjectively, but at that moment, with a bright, _happy_ smile on Derek’s face and a lightness in his demeanor that was incredibly new, Derek was absolutely gorgeous. His smile transformed his face into a whole different person. His eyes were _breathtaking_. Lit up with laughter, Stiles was able to really see all the colors swirling around in Derek’s eyes. They morphed from a cerulean shade of blue to a teal shade of blue green, to a vibrant green, all of which began at a thin line of amber around the pupils. Derek’s eyes shining with happiness were absolutely heart-stopping. 

Derek noticed Stiles’s silence and tilted his head. “Where did you go, Stiles?” he asked and Stiles shook his head quietly.

“Just… looking,” he said, ducking his eyes when his face grew warm. “Too sad that you won’t share,” he joked suddenly, defaulting back to teasing to try and avoid thinking too hard on what he’d just realized. 

The flutter he had felt in the past had grown into a warm, glowing flame in Stiles’s chest, carrying so much more in that small spark than just simple attraction. What Stiles felt was closer to something even his own subconscious didn’t want to put a name on.

~

Stiles walked into his dad’s office and dropped a plate. “Lunch!” he announced, then glared when he saw a can of coke on his dad’s desk. “ _Daaaaad!_ ” he whined and John looked up from his computer, then groaned.

“Stiles, it’s one soda-“

“Do you know how much sugar is in that soda?!” he demanded, narrowing his eyes. “I swear to God, Dad.”

John shot him a look. “I don’t fuss about you eating _two_ slices of pecan pie Friday night, but you can yell at me for a can of soda?” he countered and Stiles gaped.

“Who told?!”

John smirked. “Ethel from Mary Mac’s was telling me all about how cute you were on your date after the game,” he said, grinning. “When were you gonna tell me you were _dating someone_?” he teased. Stiles spluttered and John laughed. “She said you _fed him_ , adding ‘how adorable is that?!’ to her statement.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, flopping into the chair across from his dad’s desk. “I wasn’t on a _date_. I was celebrating winning with Derek.”

John shot him a disbelieving look. “You fed pie to Derek Hale,” he said flatly and Stiles blushed.

“What?! I didn’t really. I handed him the fork,” he said defensively. “We were just hanging out and celebrating.”

John rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, Stiles,” he said and Stiles shoved the plate at him. “What is it tonight? Rabbit food?”

“Turkey burger and carrots,” Stiles said and John groaned dramatically.

“You’re killing me, Stiles. Really killing me,” he grumbled, opening the takeout box. 

Stiles pointed at him. “I’m actually doing the opposite. I’m making you live longer. Now eat it and be happy,” he directed. John sighed but took a bite, glaring at Stiles as he chewed. “Good boy,” Stiles said, taking a bite of his own sandwich.

John’s phone rang so he picked it up. “Yeah?” he asked, only to pale. Stiles tensed and John jumped up. “I’m coming,” he said, dropping his burger. “Stiles, don’t freak out, okay?” he asked, running to grab his coat off the rack, grabbing his keys.

“Dad-“

“Derek got hurt,” he said and Stiles’s blood froze in his veins.

“WHAT?!” he cried, jumping up. “How- is he okay?!”

John opened the door, rushing out with Stiles following him. “I’m sure he’s fine, ‘how he is’, but I’m his emergency contact. I knew he was on a call, we got the call earlier about a house fire and he’s at work, but that was the hospital.” He rushed past Gladys. “I’ve gotta run, sort of a family emergency, tell everybody I’ve got my radio,” he said as he and Stiles headed out to his car.

Stiles was silent when they got in and headed for the hospital as his mind raced. He hadn’t ever really expected _Derek_ to get hurt. He was a werewolf – an alpha at that – so anything that happened should’ve healed almost immediately. Also, he was stronger and faster, so he should’ve been able to get out of any trouble he would get into on a call. He couldn’t help but be terrified at the thought of Derek being hurt. As he twisted his fingers in the fabric of his hoodie, his insides twisted themselves into knots as he fought back the fear of Derek not being okay.

He couldn’t lose Derek. Stiles chewed on his bottom lip until it nearly hurt as the panic filled him He could _not_ lose Derek. Derek was so much more than his friend. Derek was more than his alpha. Derek was the person he thought about when he woke up in the morning. Derek was the one he wanted to tell first when something happened. Derek was the one person he could trust to always be there if he needed him, no matter what. He couldn’t bear the thought of Derek not being there when he had a bad dream and needed someone to talk to.

When they got to the hospital, Stiles followed his dad calmly into the building, waiting impatiently for his father to finish speaking to the person at the desk. He glanced around, only to stop when he saw Ramirez and Chief Watson walking in. “Hey!” He rushed over. “Hey, what happened?” he asked, looking at Ramirez, cringing at the bandage on her arm. “Are you okay?” he asked and she nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She glanced at the Chief and he nodded, patting her shoulder.

“You go on home,” he said, and they watched her leave. “Rough night, Son,” he said with a sad smile. “Rough call earlier.”

Stiles nodded. “Dad said there was a house fire. What happened?” he asked, then hesitated. “And what happened to Derek? He’s okay, right?” he asked and the Chief gave him a sympathetic look.

“He should be fine,” he comforted. “Just some smoke inhalation and a blow to the head.” He looked down. “He didn’t listen when we said to abort a rescue,” he said. “Don’t repeat that,” he added. “I’m telling your old man, but I don’t want to report Derek’s insubordination. He was just trying to do his job and even if he didn’t listen, I’m not gonna fire the boy for trying to save a life.” Stiles paled.

“Oh no,” he said and Chief Watson nodded.

“Most of the family was near the front of the house so we got them all out unconscious, they should be fine once they’re treated for smoke inhalation, but a toddler was in the nursery. The house was unstable so I had to give the order to get out of the house, but Derek said he could make it if he dropped his tank. He was told to get out but he tried to get upstairs without the tank and ended up getting hit by a falling beam. He’s lucky he’s alive. The house wasn’t holding and we didn’t get to him until after the flames were down and we could send someone in.” he shook his head. “It’s a miracle. Never seen anybody last that long in smoke like that.” He waved a hand. “Normally I’d have to fire someone for that,” he pointed out. “And he’ll have a hell of an ass crawling and some serious punishments, but I’m gonna give him a day or so. I shouldn’t, but I’ve got a soft spot for the kid,” he admitted.

Stiles’s gut twisted. “Shit,” he said shakily. “Derek would do that,” he said weakly. “He’s so strong and I bet he really thought he could get to the baby,” he said and Watson nodded.

“He almost did. I think he’ll be more upset than injured at this point,” he said, giving Stiles a pointed look. “Look after him, okay? It was a rough day for all of us.”

Stiles nodded, only to be distracted by his dad coming back. “Chief, I hear you had some trouble with Derek?” he asked and he gave Stiles a look. “They said he’s fine, by the way. They’re just getting the discharge papers ready.”

Stiles suddenly felt the ridiculous urge to get to Derek _now_. “Where is he?” he demanded and John frowned.

“He’s coming out soon, no need to go”

“Tell me where he’s at,” Stiles argued and John sighed and nodded at the hall behind them. Stiles turned and didn’t listen to his dad calling his name in increasing levels of annoyance as he took off running.

Stiles ran down the hall, dodging nurses, several of whom yelled at him to stop. He didn’t stop, however, until he saw Mrs. McCall coming out of a room and she grabbed his shirt, yanking him to a stop. “He’s in here,” she said, rolling her eyes at his confused look. “I’m not blind nor stupid, only one person you’d be running after looking panicky.” Stiles flushed, but she shoved him past her into the room she was leaving. “Five minutes while I go find him a shirt,” she said, then pulled the door shut.

Stiles turned around, pausing when he saw a Derek sitting on the side of a table, looking down at a folder, even though his eyes weren’t moving as they would if he were reading it. Stiles started closer, stepping lightly so as not to frighten Derek. “Derek?” he asked softly, and Derek didn’t respond. He stepped closer, looking at the tight line of Derek’s bare shoulders. “Derek?” he tried again, reaching out to put a hand on Derek’s forearm.

Derek just sighed. “What do you want, Stiles?” he asked in a brittle tone that hurt Stiles to hear.

Stiles took the folder from Derek and laid it beside him. “Hey, look up,” he said, and Derek glanced up at him through his lashes. “You okay?” he asked gently.

Derek looked away. “Stiles, don’t-“

“No, don't you try to shut me out right now.” Stiles stepped closer, forcing Derek to look up at him. “Talk to me.” He brushed at the black smudges still all over Derek’s forearm. “Tell me if you’re okay,” he pressed and Derek let out a weak whimper.

“I should’ve made it,” he said, voice breaking. “I could’ve. I know I could’ve-“

“It’s okay,” Stiles comforted, shaking his head. “You nearly died, Derek-“

Derek let out a harsh growl. “Cut the crap, I’m perfectly fine, just a bump on the head and a little soreness when I breathe while my lungs heal-“

Stiles cut him off. “You are the ‘miraculous survivor’ of the most severe case of smoke inhalation that would suffocate most people to death, that is not ‘perfectly fine’.”

Derek’s hands fisted on his thighs. “Not now, Stiles, just- please,” he whispered and Stiles nodded. “A baby died because of me,” he muttered in a tiny voice that Stiles couldn’t believe was coming from Derek’s lips. 

Stiles rested his hand on Derek’s shoulder. “The rest of that family is alive because of you,” he said softly. “Derek, I’m so sorry, but it’s the reality of your job. You can’t save everybody.”

Derek let out a whine. “I was the only one who could have got in there, Stiles. I could’ve done it. This one time I should’ve made it easily. If I had just been faster jumping out of the way, I could’ve got up there and-“

“And you _tried_ ,” Stiles soothed. “You tried but you can’t do everything.” He rubbed his hands over Derek’s shoulders. “You did what you could and nobody blames you for it.”

Derek let his head drop to Stiles’s chest, arms snaking around Stiles’s hips, pulling him close. “I’ve seen us lose people before but it’s never felt like my fault before,” he admitted, voice muffled by Stiles’s hoodie as he clung to him, fingers fisted in the gray fabric as he hid his face in Stiles’s chest.

Stiles curled his arms loosely around Derek’s shoulders, closing his eyes as he laid his cheek on Derek’s short, soft hair, fingers curled around the nape of Derek’s neck. “I’m sorry, Derek, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, letting Derek cling to him like he was going to fall apart without Stiles to hold onto. He bit his lip. “I was so scared, Derek,” he said softly, nails biting into Derek’s shoulder lightly. “Dad got a call and got all tense and pale and just said ‘Derek’s hurt’ and I just- I was so scared. I guess I shouldn’t from the number of times I’ve seen you nearly die, but I always seem to think of you as invincible. I never really think of you getting really hurt. You’re so fast and strong and smart and an _alpha_ so the idea didn’t occur to me until that call that I could _lose you_ ,” he admitted, voice tight with emotions. “I was so scared. I just kept thinking ‘what if he’s not okay’ because, Derek, I can’t lose you,” he admitted, heart pounding. “I can’t- you’re too important to me.” He pressed his lips to the crown of Derek’s head, closing his eyes. “I was so scared that maybe I was wrong and you could get hurt and I could lose you-“

Derek looked up. “Stiles, I’m okay,” he comforted, eyes wide with surprise. “I’m fine, it’s okay-“

“But what if you weren’t?” Stiles whispered, hands curled around Derek’s neck as he looked down into his eyes. “Derek, you could’ve _died_ ,” he breathed as tears filled his eyes. “I can’t- I can’t lose you,” he whimpered and Derek shook his head.

“Stiles, I’m fine, see? I’m right here. It’s okay,” he comforted, rubbing Stiles’s back gently as he looked up into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Stiles let out a wet sound and closed his eyes. “I can’t lose you, Derek, because I _love_ you,” he whispered and he could feel more than hear Derek’s breath catch. He pulled Derek into a rough hug, arms tight around his shoulders, fingers in his hair. 

Derek just held him closer, turning his head into Stiles’s neck. “It’s okay,” he whispered against Stiles’s skin. “It’s okay, just breathe, shhhh,” he soothed. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Stiles nodded against his shoulder. “You better freaking not, dude.” He pulled back and gave him a narrow eyed look, even as a traitorous tear slipped down his cheek. “You’re not allowed to leave me like that, got it?”

Derek smiled and nodded, reaching up to swipe the tear off of Stiles’s face, thumb sliding along the ridge of Stiles’s cheekbone. “I’m not going anywhere,” he muttered, voice warm and soothing as he looked into Stiles’s eyes. “Because I love you too,” he said firmly, and Stiles blushed, but smiled.

“Well obviously, who doesn’t?” he joked, though he quickly hugged Derek again, burying his face in his neck to avoid his eyes. Derek didn’t say anything, though he couldn’t help but smile as he held Stiles in silence, wondering how they went from Stiles comforting him to him comforting Stiles so quickly.

They stayed that way until Mrs. McCall came back with a tee-shirt and a pen so Derek could sign himself out.

~

Derek was staying the night with them ‘just in case something was missed’ by doctors’ orders, so Stiles had to wait until Derek and his father were talking downstairs before climbing out his window. It was a _lot_ harder as a human, Stiles discovered. He barely managed to not fall into the shrub beside the garage when he dropped down the gutter and landed in a heap. His jeep cranking up would be too loud, so he had to put it in neutral and push it down the driveway. He ended up panicking and running after it when it really started rolling, headed straight for the neighbors’ trashcans, and he barely managed to jump in and hit the break before clipping the cans. He got out and pushed it halfway down the block before he gave up and just prayed that was far enough because _Jesus_ was pushing a car hard! 

When he got to Scott’s house, he knew Mrs. McCall was still at work, so he expected Scott to be alone. When he climbed through Scott’s window – much easier than escaping his room since the tree outside was easy to climb – he was _not_ expecting to land right on Isaac, who jumped and shouted, throwing the controller and headset halfway across the room in shock.

Scott turned and sighed. “Jesus, Stiles, warning would’ve been nice!”

Stiles huffed, standing up from the floor. “Werewolves should be more alert.” He flopped onto the bed beside Scott and looked at Isaac, who was still standing and glaring at him. “Why aren’t you home? It’s midnight on a school night.”

Isaac rolled his eyes. “I could say the same to you,” he said, sitting on the corner of the bed facing him. “Derek is at work so it’s no big deal.”

Stiles sat up, frowning. “Nobody called you?! Holy crap- Scott, your mom didn’t call _you_?!” he asked and Scott shook his head.

“What about?” He rolled off the bed and went to get his phone, only to curse. “Shit, she texted and called,” he said, heading back to the bed only to stop suddenly. “Oh shit, is Derek okay?!”

Isaac’s head popped up. “What? What’s wrong?”

Stiles waved a hand. “He’s fine. Well, not ‘fine’ but physically he’s all healed up,” he said, turning to Isaac. “I was with my dad when he got called about Derek being in the hospital. He got hurt on a call.”

Isaac gasped. “What?! Nobody called me?!”

Stiles shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, dude. My dad is his emergency contact and neither of us thought to call you. I’m sorry but I was in a bad headspace,” he defended. “I kinda freaked out.”

Scott frowned. “Wait, why are you here anyways? Why did your dad let you come here instead of go home?”

Stiles groaned, dragging one of Scotts pillows over his head as he fell over, curled in a ball. “Derek came home with us and I waited until they were talking to sneak out.”

Scott sat down beside Stiles, looking at the pillow. “Okay… why? I figured if Derek was there, you’d be looking after him. You kinda do that.”

Stiles whined into the pillow. “Ee tod ewik eh wub hum.”

Isaac and Scott exchanged looks before Scott snatched the pillow. “Repeat in English.”

Stiles gave him a pained look. “I’m in love with Derek,” he said, looking suspicious when he just got nods and no questions. “And I was freaking out and… I told him I love him.”

Scott threw his arms up and Isaac gave a happy groan, flopping onto the bed beside him. “Thank _God_!” 

Scott nodded. “About freaking time, dude. It was getting bad.”

Stiles sat up, glaring at them both. “What?! Why are you not shocked?! Why are you celebrating?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Dude, it’s been obvious for _months_. It was getting pathetic.”

Isaac nodded. “If I had to listen to Derek talking about ‘Stiles this’ and ‘Stiles that’ and ‘I told Stiles’ and ‘when I was with Stiles’ without him actually doing something about it, I was going to go crazy,” he said and Stiles blushed.

“But- but I didn’t even realize it until – well tonight,” he said and Scott and Isaac both gave him sympathetic looks. “Jesus, really?”

Scott nodded. “Boyd thought you guys being a couple was just something nobody talks about until we managed to work out that neither of you had actually done anything about it the fact you’ve been dating for months now and didn’t know it.”

Stiles flushed when he made a realization. “Oh… I fed him pie,” he said suddenly.

Isaac made a face. “Ew. Please tell me that’s not innuendo,” he said and Stiles slapped him on the back of the head.

“You pervert!” he accused. “And no, after the game Derek and I went to Mary Mac’s for after-game celebratory dessert and I let Derek have a bite of my pecan pie and I may have fed it to him and Ethel told my dad she saw his son on a date.” He nodded blankly. “That was so totally a date and neither of us knew it,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m officially an idiot.”

Scott shoved him lightly. “So what happened?! You told him how you feel, that’s a big accomplishment, but what happened? Are you guys together now?”

Isaac snickered. “Are you my new mommy?” he teased and Stiles flipped him off.

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted. He sighed. “It was a really emotional thing. Not that, but like… I was sorta almost crying because Derek could’ve _died_ and I was freaking out when I told him. He- he said it back,” he said, looking up at Scott. “He told me he loves me, too,” he said, smiling a nervous smile.

Scott snorted. “Well obviously, duh, the point is, are you guys together now?”

Stiles shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll see?” he tried. “Derek had a really hard day.” He pointed at Isaac. “Do whatever he tells you do for the next few days, do not stress him out.” He groaned, putting his face in his hands. “He was trying to save a kid trapped in the house and he didn’t make it,” he said and Scott and Isaac both paled. “So he was really messed up over that. I mean, they’ve lost people before, but Derek was so sure he’d be able to get the baby out of the house and he wasn’t quick enough to get out of the way of a beam and it knocked him out and the baby died because of it. I told him it isn’t his fault and all that, but you know Derek. He has more self-loathing than freaking Angel. He’s better lately but this won’t help that at all.”

Isaac cringed. “Jesus, poor Derek.”

Scott just nudged Stiles. “Dude, you’re going to have a boyfriend probably.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, but smiled anyhow. “Maybe. Jury’s still out. There’s a lot of baggage there, you know?”

Scott shrugged. “It’ll work out. It has to. You two are already a couple anyhow.”

Stiles just smiled and rolled his eyes. “Whatever, you two get back to your video games. I’ve got to try and sneak back into my house."

~

Stiles didn’t get to talk to Derek alone for nearly a week. They talked about things around his dad, but never about what had been said between them. Derek seemed to want to try and talk to Stiles alone but every time they started to go somewhere else to talk, someone came along and needed their attention. Stiles thought about bringing it up in texts, but he didn’t think that was a conversation to have via technology.

The chance came when Stiles got out of school and found Derek waiting parked beside his jeep. He looked around to see if Isaac was coming out, then headed over. “Hey,” he said and Derek smiled when he got there. “What’re you doing here? I thought Isaac said you were working all week?”

Derek groaned. “I’m on five - twelves a week as punishment for disobeying orders. I got today off after four in a row.” He stood up and put his hands in his pockets. “I was hoping we could talk.”

Stiles’s throat went dry as his heart skipped, but he nodded. “Yeah, we kind of need to,” he said and Derek nodded, looking down at his shoes. Stiles realized Derek was as nervous as he was. “So about last week,” he started, only to stop when Derek looked up suddenly, glaring over his shoulder. “What?” he asked, turning, only to glare as well when he saw both Scott and Isaac sitting at a picnic table, pretending to talk but clearly listening in. “Nosey bastards,” he grumbled and they both jumped visibly.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Want to go somewhere with less _ears_ to talk?” he asked, narrowing his eyes over Stiles’s shoulder.

Stiles chuckled. “Yeah, sure.” He hesitated. “Crap, my dad’s at home,” he said and Derek grumbled.

“Isaac’s going back to our place,” he said, then rolled his eyes. “Okay, this is ridiculous, wanna tell your dad you’re going for a run in the preserve and meet me at the house?” he asked and Stiles laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Werewolves make privacy so difficult,” he said, then nodded. “Sure, just let me go get some running shoes so he’s not suspicious. I’ll meet you in thirty?” he asked, and Derek nodded.

“I’ll be there,” he agreed, going to his car while Stiles circled his jeep.

~

By the time Stiles got to the house, Derek was already waiting on the porch. Stiles got out and walked up to the house, meeting Derek as he jumped off the porch. Stiles chuckled, smiling. “Dude, seriously, wouldn’t it be easier to use the stairs?” he joked and Derek rolled his eyes at him. 

“When have I ever done things the easy way?” he asked, then smiled. “So… hey.”

Stiles chuckled softly and smiled back. “Hey to you to.” He looked at Derek closely. “I know you’re not a big talker, but you can’t be this nervous.”

Derek ducked his head, ears turning pink. “Yeah well… it’s- Stiles,” he groaned and Stiles rolled his eyes. “I want to- I guess I’m trying to-“

“Hey,” Stiles said, stepping closer. “How about we just walk until you remember how to form sentences?” he suggested, taking Derek’s hand. He curled their fingers together and tugged Derek as he turned and started walking.

Derek quickly fell into step with him, letting Stiles lead them off into the woods. “I don’t know why this is so weird,” Derek admitted and Stiles just squeezed his fingers.

“You’re bad with talking and expressing emotions that aren’t anger or amusement, it’s fine to struggle, Derek,” he said, glancing up at him. “How about we talk something else?”

Derek met his eyes briefly, then nodded. “So… when is your next game?” he tried and Stiles chuckled.

“Tomorrow night. Same as usual. How long are you on twelve hour shifts?” he asked and Derek made a face.

“A month. Five a week for a month. Really sucks.” He shrugged. “I could’ve lost my job, though, so it’s not so bad,” he said, pausing to let Stiles jump over the log Derek had just crossed so they didn’t have to drop hands. “I’m stuck in the station, too. No calls, just cleaning and maintenance and training.” 

And so they talked. They both kept skimming over the topic they most needed to discuss, the reason they had come out in the first place, and talked about anything else as they walked. For nearly an hour, they avoided the subject until the late afternoon sun was starting to dim in the thick forest and they went back to the clearing at the house. Derek walked Stiles back to the space between their vehicles before he turned to look at Stiles. He looked at his face and did a double take, eyes drawn back up. The sun made Stiles’s eyes glow an amazing, honey orange, warm brown. “Screw it,” he said suddenly, stopping Stiles mid-sentence. “I’m going to talk and you listen, okay?” Stiles nodded. Derek took a breath and began. “I wasn’t going to tell you how I felt but you said it and I couldn’t help it.” Stiles’s face fell and Derek continued before Stiles could say a word. “No, look, you’re seventeen and you’re human and until the last few months, I’ve had a dangerous life. I still do, but not in a way that would endanger all of you guys again. It’s only a matter of time until something else stirs up. So I wasn’t going to say anything, especially since the thing that made us become so close was you being attacked and _that_ is just another reason I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Derek-“ Derek cut him off.

“Instead, I was going to just stay out of the way,” Derek continued. “I was going to let you go and let you grow up. I was going to let you go and make myself be okay with that,” he said, then smiled softly, letting go of one of Stiles’s hands to reach up and cup his cheek. “Because you’re so much better than what I have to offer. You’re smart and you’re brave. And so beautiful,” he groaned, stroking his cheekbone. “In the last year you’ve gone from a child to a young man and you have become one of the more beautiful people I’ve ever seen, Stiles,” he breathed, earning blush. “You deserve so much more… but you picked me,” he said, biting back a smile at the way Stiles’s heart stumbled over itself when he changed courses. “I could see it, I could see it starting, and I felt myself falling, and I was scared of it but you’re always there when I need you.” He hesitated and bit his lip. “You told me last week that you love me.” He nodded minutely. “So I’m not going to stay out of the way anymore,” he said seriously. “I’m not going to let you go when I know that you love me the same way that I love you.” He shook his head, swallowing. “It’s dangerous and I’m being selfish to want to keep you for myself, but I need you, Stiles, because nobody else is always there. I’ve never trusted anyone the way I trust you and I _need_ you in a way I’ve never needed anyone.” He met his eyes with a shy smile. “I’d be lost without you.”

Stiles stepped into Derek’s space, sliding his arms around Derek’s middle. “Damn, for a man who doesn’t do words and emotions well, that was kind of the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, and Derek rolled his eyes, cheeks going pink. “So,” he started, looking into Derek’s eyes. “For once, I’m not going to talk.”

Derek frowned. “Seriously? You’re gonna let me get all that out and then not tell me what you think, or even give me a ‘wrong answer’ or ‘good answer’ or any idea of what the hell you want-“ Derek was silenced by lips on his. He made a grumpy, confused sound, and Stiles smiled against his mouth, effectively ruining the kiss.

“Said I wasn’t gonna talk, not give you my thoughts on the matter,” he mumbled, nudging his nose against Derek’s. “I can show you how I feel way better than tell you,” he said, and Derek smiled. This time he was expecting the kiss so he reciprocated, holding Stiles’s face in his hands as they shared a slow, gentle kiss. Derek didn’t push for more, letting Stiles set the slow, comfortable pace on his own. Stiles nipped gently at Derek’s top lip, earning a soft moan before he broke the kiss, taking a shaky breath. “Clear enough?”

Derek smirked, sliding his thumb across Stiles’s bottom lip. “Yeah, I think so,” he muttered and Stiles nodded.

“Good, lemme make sure though,” he said as he tugged Derek in, kissing him again.

~

After the game, Stiles, Scott, and Isaac all walked out to the parking lot together. John was waiting, talking to Derek when they got there. “Hey, Mr. Stilinski, did you tell Derek?” Isaac asked brightly, going for a high-five with Scott, only for them to both miss.

John chuckled at their confused faces. “Yeah, I told him you scored a goal, Isaac,” he said, and Derek nodded.

“Good job,” he said, reaching out to ruffle Isaac’s hair. He looked at Stiles and smiled. “How’d you do?”

Stiles grinned. “Scored a goal, so it was a good night even if we lost.” He shrugged. “I blame Danny, he has a cold and sneezed a lot.”

John shrugged. “Well, even if we’re not celebrating, who wants to go get ice cream? Consolation for the three of you sound good?” he asked, looking around.

Stiles coughed awkwardly, shrugging. “I can’t,” he said, earning confused looks from his dad and his friends. “I’ve sort of got a date,” he admitted and John narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms.

“You do, huh? With who?” he asked flatly.

Stiles kicked Derek, who cleared his throat and stepped up, putting a hand on Stiles’s shoulder. “With me,” he said, giving John his most innocent, wide-eyed look he could manage. 

John gave them both a look, eyes flickering from Stiles to Derek. “Oh really now. A date. With him,” he said slowly.

Stiles glared at him and Derek gave him a sincere nod. “I promise I’ll have him home early, John.”

Stiles gave his dad a pointed look and Derek looked about two seconds from throwing up as John simply stared him down. John finally cracked and smiled, rolling his eyes. “About damn time! I’m pretty sure half the town’s been a few days away from getting a billboard or something,” he said and Stiles and Derek both flushed bright red.

“DAD!” Stiles squeaked. “That’s so not cool-“

“Oh come on, Stiles, you two spend all your time together, I’d have thought you were sneaking around together for months now if it wasn’t for the fact you’re a terrible liar, kid!” 

Stiles sighed. “So… you’re okay? With this?” he asked, sliding his hand into Derek’s.

John smiled and waved a hand. “Don’t look so worried, Jesus. Derek’s a good kid and you’ve known him long enough that it’s unlikely he’ll suddenly stop being the same guy you make that stupid face over,” he teased and Stiles gave him a panicked, bright red glare.

“Dad. Shut. Up!”

Scott just smirked. “You do make a ‘Derek’ face,” he agreed and Isaac snickered.

“No worse than Derek’s ‘Stiles’ face,” he offered and Derek growled at him.

“Isaac,” he warned and Stiles shook his hand.

“Stop that, no growling when my dad is judging you,” he chastised. He looked at his father suspiciously. “This is seriously your reaction? You’re not gonna threaten to murder Derek or clean your gun while you give him a ‘talk’ or something?”

John shrugged, looking at Derek. “I don’t think that’s necessary, do you, Derek?” he asked, and Derek shook his head. He smiled at Stiles. “Look, Kid, I would have if it was somebody else, but I know Derek. I know how Derek looks at you,” he said, his smile softening some when Derek and Stiles exchanged a quick glance. “I trusted him to sleep in my house, sometimes when I wasn’t even home, for nearly two months straight. Needless to say, I trust him.”

Stiles looked tentatively relieved, though suspicious. “What about the age thing?” he asked, and Derek shot him a panicked look, knocking his elbow into his side. “What?! He’d have thought of it eventually,” he defended.

John rolled his eyes. “Stiles, you’re closer to eighteen than seventeen and I know what you’ve been through. I also know Derek’s rather violent opinion about people who take advantage. If there is anybody I’m not worried about making you do _anything_ you aren’t up for, it’s Derek.” He made a face. “Anything ‘illegal’ that goes on just needs to be discreet because I really don’t want to have to arrest you, Derek.”

Derek looked mortified and Stiles just looked impressed at his father’s level of understanding. Derek cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um uh no- no illegal anything anytime soon so that’s- good to know but not necessary. At all. Probably not for a long time.” He looked away, scratching his face awkwardly. “Like not until it’s not illegal,” he muttered, looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him up.

Stiles just smiled at Derek fondly and tugged him into his side. “Alright, alright, let’s go before you have a breakdown,” Stiles teased, tugging Derek towards the car. “Thanks for being cool about this, Dad! We’ll be home by one-“

“Midnight,” Derek called back, voice tighter than usual. “Totally have him home before twelve,” he said, and Stiles laughed at him, spinning around in front of Derek to kiss him with a smack. 

“I love how much of a fraidy cat you are, Mr. Hale,” he teased, stumbling back as Derek’s momentum carried them a few steps. 

Derek just rolled his eyes, catching Stiles by the hips. “You’re so lucky I like you, Stiles. That was probably the most terrifying thing ever and I’ve nearly died like twenty times. That’s how terrifying that was,” he stressed and Stiles just grinned.

“I cannot believe you’re so scared of my dad-“

“Oh really? Really?!” Derek narrowed his eyes. “Not only has he _arrested me before_ \- you don’t forget that crap okay?! – but he’s also the only person in the world that can stop me from seeing you, why _wouldn’t_ I be afraid of making him mad?” he asked, and Stiles stopped.

Stiles looked into Derek’s eyes and couldn’t help the way everything inside of him seemed to glow. “That’s why,” he said in wonder, voice light. “You aren’t afraid of being shot or being arrested or anything else… you’re afraid of him keeping me away from you,” he realized, reaching up to touch Derek’s face lightly. Derek looked down and nodded bashfully. 

“It’s so stupid, but-“

“It’s not,” Stiles said firmly, tipping Derek’s face up. He bit his lip to keep a stupid grin off his face. “Derek, it’s the most incredible thing ever,” he whispered, letting out an ecstatic giggle. “You – you sexy, intelligent, strong, amazing man – are more afraid of losing me than losing your own life,” he pointed out and Derek just shrugged.

“Of course I am,” he said, looking at Stiles like it was the most obvious thing ever when to Stiles, it was the most amazing thing anyone had ever said about him. 

Stiles looked into Derek’s eyes and saw nothing but honesty and love and he couldn’t help but kiss him hard, not caring at all who could see them in the middle of the parking lot. When he pulled back, he laughed delightedly and clung to Derek. “I love you,” he said through his laughter, unable to think of a single other thing to say. “Derek, I _love_ you.”

Derek seemed to catch up because a smile slowly stretched across his face and he nodded, pulling Stiles even closer so that they were pressed tightly together from thighs to foreheads. “I love you, too, you idiot,” he said, pecking his lips tenderly. “I’d love you even more if you stopped making everybody in the parking lot stare at us,” he added and Stiles pulled away with a laugh.

“Oh shut up, you love it,” he accused, turning to head to the car, tugging Derek along by his hand. “You like being able to go all ‘oh yeah, this one’s mine’ and all this other possessive alpha crap,” he teased, looking over at Derek with a smirk. “You like gloating over what they don’t get to have cause Stiles is yours and _everybody_ else wants some of that but they can’t have it-“

“I’m liking you less and less with every word,” Derek said flatly, though Stiles could see the playful glint in his eyes.

Stiles let go to walk to the other side of the car and leaned against the roof, looking over at Derek. “Liar,” he accused and Derek just grinned at him before opening the door.

“Yeah, just a little bit,” he said, winking at Stiles before sliding into the car. He didn’t need to see Stiles’s face to know how happy Stiles was.

In the end, that was all that mattered.


End file.
